While my students spent their December break on safaris or flying to European capitals, I spent mine in Baltimore in the United States (at least virtually) re-watching HBO’s The Wire. What was intended to be a mindless binge soon transformed into a mirror of deep self-reflection. As a Social Studies teacher at an American international school in Southern Africa, I grapple with the moral implications of the show's recurring message, "The game is the game."
The Privilege of the "Type 3"
I am what some in the research community have labeled a "Type 3" hire because I get expatriate benefits which include housing subsidies, flight tickets, and a salary that exceeds what local staff members receive. My position means that I exist within a professional bubble that unwittingly keeps out the very people we are supposed to help. Inside our school, this privilege is normalized. The physical separation between our campus and underfunded local systems which lie beyond our walls silently communicates which members of society deserve attention and which ones do not.
The Ethics of "Juking the Stats"
This cognitive dissonance produces its most intense effects when I teach International Baccalaureate (IB) Business Management. As the syllabus’ conceptual framework explores big ideas like ethics, I’m often conflicted when presenting our school as a case study of a social enterprise which prioritizes Corporate Social Responsibility. Don Lamison and other education writers argue that elite schools operate as systems which prevent others from accessing their valuable resources through "opportunity hoarding."
Even as schools affirm their mission statements, many accidentally fall into the same pattern as the police department depicted in The Wire, “juking the stats” by chasing enrollment statistics, Western university matriculation rates, and IB test scores because as veteran educator Denry Machin quips, the “market is a cruel master.” School resources chase external accolades and validation which regularly pits institutional self-interest against its core values. The "Western" brand of prestige which we offer frequently uses local culture as decorative elements instead of recognizing its academic value.
The Bunny Colvin Lesson
Season 4 of The Wire illustrates how institutions often resist those who attempt to address root causes. Much like the character Bunny Colvin, educators who push for substantive change often encounter a wall of institutional pushback. Leadership seems incentivized to maintain the special treatment of expat staff members while marginalizing local staff to ensure the school's financial and reputational status. We may signal virtue through performative diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) committees, but as John Frame warns, schools often stop short of the policy changes that would actually upend the structures of privilege from which they benefit.
My 2026 Commitment: From Resignation to Agency
In The Wire, the system wins when the individuals within it stop naming the game. In 2026, I am making two commitments to notice when "the game" is shaping my school’s decisions more than its mission. These commitments are modest by design, but modesty is often the only form of resistance institutions reliably tolerate. I resolve to:
This work takes longer, is more difficult, and is less visible than glossy annual reports. But it’s the only way to ensure international schools not only teach about global citizenship but practice it as well.
Further Reading
Elijah is a social studies and International Baccalaureate business management teacher at the American International School of Mozambique specializing in institutional ethics and equity. He is currently based in Southern Africa.
LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/elijah-abdullah-a9a33a346/
