The Foreign Service Journal, April 2016

26 APRIL 2016 | THE FOREIGN SERVICE JOURNAL known as “the education guy” in humani- tarian circles, not just here in Turkey but also in Amman, Geneva and Brussels. I have been directing my efforts toward constructing new schools with U.S. funds, advocating for greater contributions from other donors and liaising with Turkish counterparts—all in an attempt to give children hope before they succumb to miserable child-labor conditions, or worse, start selling themselves as prosti- tutes for the price of a pack of cigarettes. I am happy to say that we have seen some success, with the number of Syrian children enrolled in school climbing from 107,000 to 208,000 in the past six months. Of course, there are still 380,000 youngsters out of school. But knowing that I played a role in increasing the number of students and hope to add another 100,000 in the next six months allows me to sleep better most nights, especially given the haunting images I sometimes see in the field. Autumn 2015—A Mediterranean Crisis In September, the photo of Aylan Kurdi, the Syrian refugee child washed up on the beach in Turkey, brought the migration and refugee crisis to the front pages of international media and into the public’s conscience. Hundreds of thousands of Syrians and other migrants had begun taking the risky journey across the Aegean Sea to Greece, whose islands are only a few miles off the Turkish mainland, some dying on the way. With additional support and a temporary deputy refugee coordinator, the PRM team headed back to Izmir to better understand and report on the situation. The refugees gather downtown, where they have access to smuggling rings, inex- pensive housing and an already diverse population of refugees resident there. The neighborhood is chaotic, with crowds of homeless refugees lining the narrow streets. The main street, known as “Hotel Street,” is filled with cheap hotels acting as one- stop shops for smuggling to Europe. Shops selling life jackets dot the neighborhood, reminding us of the perils these vulnerable people will face as they take to the sea. After arranging their voyage with the smugglers, the refugees wait anywhere from a few days to months, living on the street or in the cheap hotels waiting for their day to cross to a Greek The following day, we drove along the highway to the border city of Kilis, just north of Aleppo, that originally had 90,000 inhabitants, but now also hosts 120,000 Syrians. The local Turks have been outnumbered by their Arabic-speaking guests. Medi- cal care providers and teachers have been unable to keep pace with the incredible demand for services, which has led to a rise in tensions. We have provided funding to run six schools there for Syrian refugee children. At the last school to be constructed, I was introduced to several students and sat in briefly as they studied Arabic, trying to recall my Arabic letters as, to their delight, I recited part of the alphabet. Afterward I retreated to an office where teachers, administrators and parents voiced their satisfaction, needs and concerns to me during a two-hour meeting. Summer 2015—The “Education Guy” As the crisis in Syria stretches into its fifth year, an entire gen- eration of Syrian children faces a future with no education and little hope. The language barrier is a huge obstacle in Turkey, especially when it comes to schooling. Hundreds of thousands of Syrian children are out of school. Because so many members of my family are educators, including both parents, I have become Matt Johnson, in sunglasses, watches as Syrian and Turkish youth plant trees as part of a community building project in June 2015. U.S.DEPARTMENTOFSTATECOURTESYOFMATTJOHNSON