When I stand in front of my classroom, I see
thirty-one pairs of hungry eyes looking to me.
They come to class with a yearning mind and soul,
wondering if they can really be made whole.
Their stories are beyond my understanding of pain;
yet, they don’t show sorrow; they know to play the game.
Sometimes they don’t listen to what I say,
and getting their respect is a challenge every day.
Trying to manage their behavior is quite exhausting,
Teaching them is no chocolate-covered frosting.
But when I get frustrated and want to leave the place,
I look into their eyes to what’s beyond the face.
For behind their hardened shells, it is easy to see
Thirty-one yearning souls—who want the same things as me.
They want to be loved, to be noticed, to be heard,
To feel important, to feel purpose, to feel their souls stirred.
They want someone who will listen, one to give them a chance,
Someone with patience to lead them in life’s dance .
They want someone to bring hope, like the light of a star,
Someone to see them for who they truly are.
They want to dream for a future successful and bright,
Someone to encourage them when they’re too tired to fight.
They want to believe in purpose when life’s not fair;
They just want to know someone honestly cares.
They want to succeed at something…anything,
To know they can still fly with an injured wing.
They want what we all want—to be loved, noticed, and heard
Are these simple demands really that absurd?
So I embrace the challenge of teaching each beautiful soul
As I try to show them a Love that can make them whole.
It’s my commission, my purpose, my ministry
To love like there’s never an end to me.
.
.
Saturday, October 30, 2010
Friday, October 29, 2010
The Bigger Picture
It's not about me.
This phrase is much easier to say than to actually put into practice. I had a good lesson in humility this week. For some reason, I had a particularly difficult time keeping my students' attention in the classroom. They were a little more noisy and disrespectful than usual, and yesterday I was fed up with it. I was helping them review for a test I was giving them today, but they just would not listen. Finally, I gave up and said, "Okay, if you don't want my help, then I won't give it to you. You are on your own for the test tomorrow." And then I sat down and let the other teacher take over for the next subject. (And they did just as horrible on the test today as I thought they would.) But I left the room very frustrated and upset. What else can I do to fight for their respect every single day? It gets tiring. They just don't get it. But then I started reading through some of their answers to an in-class activity...and my attitude started to change. I realized that there is a much bigger picture to what is going on, and I need to step back from the situation (and my emotions) to see it.
In class I read them the poem "Boxes," which talks about how God gives us two boxes: a black one to hold our sorrows and a gold one to hold our joys. The message of the poem is to let go of our sorrows and hold on to our blessings. So, I had my students write their sorrows on little pieces of paper and had them throw them into a bowl--to LET GO of them. I then had them come up with "happy lists" (something my good friend Jess Mollison introduced me to when I was having a stressful time being an RA at college.) They wrote at least ten things that made them happy, ten things that they were thankful for; most of them came up with more than ten. I had them share their happy lists in class, but told them not to put their names on the sorrows and that I would be the only one to see them.
Well, after class I started reading through their sorrows and I had to stop. I had to wait until I got back to the house so I could read them alone because they made me cry. Oh, how my heart broke for these kids. I mean, it's one thing to know that Swazi is the most AIDS/HIV infected country in the world, but to know that certain students in my very own classroom have it is an entirely different meaning. I can't imagine some of the pain and sorrows these youth have had. Yet, they come to class with smiles on their faces and eagerly write happy lists. It's truly humbling and truly incredible.
Reading their sorrows and crying for these kids made me see a much bigger picture--a bigger picture outside of myself and my classroom. It's not about me. It's not about me trying to get my kids to listen to me. It's not about me as the teacher. I was frustrated because I was acting as if it's about me. But it's about the students.
When I stand in front of my students, I am not there to figure out how to earn their respect; I am there to love them, and through that I will gain respect. Who am I as this white foreigner to expect to waltz into their lives and change things? They go through teacher after teacher, friend after friend, parent after parent...people come and go so quickly into their lives. They are not used to someone that really cares about them. They are not used to a teacher who would never lay a hand on them to harm them.
I thought I was coming here to teach. No, I am here to learn. I am here to grow right along side my students, and through this is where the real teaching occurs.
(By the way, I scored a 16/20 on the SiSwati test the students gave me today. Let me tell you, they LOVED it!)
The bigger picture? It's not about me. It never was. It never will be.
This phrase is much easier to say than to actually put into practice. I had a good lesson in humility this week. For some reason, I had a particularly difficult time keeping my students' attention in the classroom. They were a little more noisy and disrespectful than usual, and yesterday I was fed up with it. I was helping them review for a test I was giving them today, but they just would not listen. Finally, I gave up and said, "Okay, if you don't want my help, then I won't give it to you. You are on your own for the test tomorrow." And then I sat down and let the other teacher take over for the next subject. (And they did just as horrible on the test today as I thought they would.) But I left the room very frustrated and upset. What else can I do to fight for their respect every single day? It gets tiring. They just don't get it. But then I started reading through some of their answers to an in-class activity...and my attitude started to change. I realized that there is a much bigger picture to what is going on, and I need to step back from the situation (and my emotions) to see it.
In class I read them the poem "Boxes," which talks about how God gives us two boxes: a black one to hold our sorrows and a gold one to hold our joys. The message of the poem is to let go of our sorrows and hold on to our blessings. So, I had my students write their sorrows on little pieces of paper and had them throw them into a bowl--to LET GO of them. I then had them come up with "happy lists" (something my good friend Jess Mollison introduced me to when I was having a stressful time being an RA at college.) They wrote at least ten things that made them happy, ten things that they were thankful for; most of them came up with more than ten. I had them share their happy lists in class, but told them not to put their names on the sorrows and that I would be the only one to see them.
Well, after class I started reading through their sorrows and I had to stop. I had to wait until I got back to the house so I could read them alone because they made me cry. Oh, how my heart broke for these kids. I mean, it's one thing to know that Swazi is the most AIDS/HIV infected country in the world, but to know that certain students in my very own classroom have it is an entirely different meaning. I can't imagine some of the pain and sorrows these youth have had. Yet, they come to class with smiles on their faces and eagerly write happy lists. It's truly humbling and truly incredible.
Reading their sorrows and crying for these kids made me see a much bigger picture--a bigger picture outside of myself and my classroom. It's not about me. It's not about me trying to get my kids to listen to me. It's not about me as the teacher. I was frustrated because I was acting as if it's about me. But it's about the students.
When I stand in front of my students, I am not there to figure out how to earn their respect; I am there to love them, and through that I will gain respect. Who am I as this white foreigner to expect to waltz into their lives and change things? They go through teacher after teacher, friend after friend, parent after parent...people come and go so quickly into their lives. They are not used to someone that really cares about them. They are not used to a teacher who would never lay a hand on them to harm them.
I thought I was coming here to teach. No, I am here to learn. I am here to grow right along side my students, and through this is where the real teaching occurs.
(By the way, I scored a 16/20 on the SiSwati test the students gave me today. Let me tell you, they LOVED it!)
The bigger picture? It's not about me. It never was. It never will be.
As Mother Teresa puts it, I am simply "a pencil in the writing hand of God."
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Just a Girl
A poem I wrote the other day about Tenele...
With a hat tilted sideways,
She struts the streets of Manzini,
A see-through white top
Barley meets the top of her jeans,
Exposing her butterfly belt buckle.
Men call to her;
Women stare at her;
The wrong people know her.
She has few friends,
too many “lovers.”
She lies about them
to cover it up;
She lies with them
to make a living.
But if you look into her eyes
you’ll see her eyes never lie.
Her eyes are like dark chocolate against her fair-black skin.
They glisten with beauty of youth;
Yet, the wrinkles tell of her pain—
pain that has aged her,
pain she ignores,
pain that gives her money,
pain she has accepted as life.
Her eyes… they never lie.
At night they are dark and tainted--
Bitter and jaded while she works.
In the day, the sunlight sometimes catches
A glimpse of the girlish dreams inside.
Her eyes are piercing,
Like the knife she holds.
She can be cruel, so full of hatred,
But her eyes are full of desperation--
A desire to simply be loved.
Her eyes…they never lie.
She lives like she is 21;
She claims that she is 17;
But her eyes say she is only 14,
Just a girl.
She’s just a girl.
A girl with a hat tilted sideways
Hiding her shame.
A see-through white top
Calling for attention.
A butterfly belt buckle
Wishing she could fly away
Men grab for her;
Women scoff at her;
The wrong people know her.
Who will love her?
With a hat tilted sideways,
She struts the streets of Manzini,
A see-through white top
Barley meets the top of her jeans,
Exposing her butterfly belt buckle.
Men call to her;
Women stare at her;
The wrong people know her.
She has few friends,
too many “lovers.”
She lies about them
to cover it up;
She lies with them
to make a living.
But if you look into her eyes
you’ll see her eyes never lie.
Her eyes are like dark chocolate against her fair-black skin.
They glisten with beauty of youth;
Yet, the wrinkles tell of her pain—
pain that has aged her,
pain she ignores,
pain that gives her money,
pain she has accepted as life.
Her eyes… they never lie.
At night they are dark and tainted--
Bitter and jaded while she works.
In the day, the sunlight sometimes catches
A glimpse of the girlish dreams inside.
Her eyes are piercing,
Like the knife she holds.
She can be cruel, so full of hatred,
But her eyes are full of desperation--
A desire to simply be loved.
Her eyes…they never lie.
She lives like she is 21;
She claims that she is 17;
But her eyes say she is only 14,
Just a girl.
She’s just a girl.
A girl with a hat tilted sideways
Hiding her shame.
A see-through white top
Calling for attention.
A butterfly belt buckle
Wishing she could fly away
Men grab for her;
Women scoff at her;
The wrong people know her.
Who will love her?
Saturday, October 9, 2010
You Know You're in Swazi When...
These are a few funny things to give you a better picture of my life in Swazi... :)
Being called "fat" is a compliment.
Your nickname becomes "Blue Eyes" because blue eyes are so rare.
"Ngisha dile" (I am married) becomes a regular part of speech so guys will stop proposing.
A wild cat in the house (who likes to sift through the kitchen garbage) is the least of your worries...
Electricity goes out for a night or a weekend...and you spend time with one another talking over candle light.
School is canceled because there's no water.
People know you are American by the pace of your walk.
All over town, you see people with umbrellas...not to block the rain, but to block the sun's heat.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Enjabulweni School
When people ask me how school/teaching is going, I sometimes don't know what to say...I find myself at with a lack for words, not because there's nothing to tell but because there is so much to say. It is a challenge, but one I enjoy immensely. It has been very, very difficult to go from teaching in the States with all the technology and resources I need at my fingertips to a bridging school in Swaziland with no resources and nothing but chalk and a chalkboard. While it is overwhelming and frustrating at times, it is rewarding to learn to use whatever limited tools and resources I have to teach my students. The best part about teaching them is that they are hungry for knowledge. I read them a story yesterday and it was the most quiet they have been. One boy even asked if he could take the book home, and when I said, "of course," he was surprised I let him. Books are special here, and I love that they love them!
They love school because to them school is a privilege. The students I teach are ones who are either off the streets or ones who cannot afford regular education in Swazi. However, (contrary to what I had hoped) just because they enjoy school doesn't mean that they behave. They are just like any other teenagers around the world--little rascals. ;)
On a serious note, I have been both amazed and humbled by many of my students' responses to the writing prompts I give them. Just to give you a taste of who some of these young men and women are, I am including a handful of their writing responses below.
Yesterday, I read the students an African story called, "Fly, Eagle, Fly," and afterwards I had them write in their journals about what they would do or where they would go if they could fly like the eagle. These are a few responses:
Mciniseli, 13: “If I could fly like an eagle, I could go to the mountain.
If I could fly like an eagle, I could go to the mountain because the air comes nice and my wings could streach and streach.
I could go to my grandmother and visit her because her house at Mololotja is to far away from town I could fly and fly and reach there.
I would fly up to the mountains, hills, and up the sky so I can see the hool world.”
Ncobile, 15: “If I cold fly like an eagle I will fly up into the sky and see the moon and stars.
I will fly to China I will want to see the country of China. I could fly to visit Mantenga Falls.
I could fly to Zimbabwe to visit president Mngabe. I could fly to visit at Durban.
I could fly to visit at U.S.A. I could fly up to heave to see Jesus and Angels.
I could fly to visit Zambia because I want to know all the countrys in the world.”
Vukane, 15: "If I can fly like an eagle I can go to visit other country like USA and South Africa. I can fly to this country because I want to get a job when I finish school.
I can fly there until I get money to the job so that I can do many thing with the money.
What I can do with the money is that, I can give my mother so that she can buy food for us at home.
The rest of the money I fly to Somalia to give the poor people so that God my blessed me. I wish to fly like an eagle so that I can enjoy my life.”
Here are a few other entries from previous writing prompts (some are sweet, some might make you cry):
Thabani, 13: “When I am grow up I want to be a soldier then when I get my casn I will make a business by build the shops then I buy something that I will sell in the shop. Then I make many business in Swaziland then I will be the business man. Then I help the poor people an give them food shelter. And I will go around the streat and fetch children that they need shelter and give them education.”
Vukane, 15: “If I can get four gold coins I can spend the money by buying nice clothes for my sister and I. After that I give my mother the change for buying food like rice, meat, and vegetable.”
“My mother is my hero. Because she look after me she cares for every one at home. She put me at school so that I can lern about every thing. My mother is my hero because she know that she mus buy clothes for us so that we will look likes other childrens.”
Nobuhle, 15: “There are many bad days in my life but to day I want to write about the worst day in my life.
It was Thursday I was at home with my step mother. My step mother boil water after boiling the water she than call me. And she tell me that I have to clean the house.
When Im bussy clening the house she than take the boil water and put it on me this how that day became the worst day on me.”
What do you want to learn? “I want to learn about how to write spellings and what you think it can help me in my life.
How can I help you become a better student? “I want you to teach me about what you think it can help me. By teach me how to do all of this things that you think it can make me to be better.
Nolwazy, 14: “My name is Nolwazy Kunene. I live at Modonsa. I’m 14 year old. I go to Enjabulweni Study Centre. I live with my mam and sisters. In my family we are five. I like to play netball, swimming and dance. I like colour pink, orange, green and yellow. My father was died long ago and I do not know him.”
“When I grow up I want to be a nurse. I want to finish school first. I want to go to University and achive my ambision. I want to help sick people in Swaziland and helps poor people. I pray to God and give me a power to help those who need to help. I want to build a beautiful house and have two children boy and girl. I want to help my family because is poor. I want to help people to building they house. In life you must know that life is too difficult. I want to build my mom beautiful house and beautiful car.”
So... I figure the best way to tell you how teaching is going is to show you the hearts of some of my students. Though they can be frustrating (like today...they wouldn't listen for the life of me), I count myself truly blessed to be in a position to teach such eager and thirsting hearts. If you think of it...pray for them, their dreams, their futures...their lives.
They love school because to them school is a privilege. The students I teach are ones who are either off the streets or ones who cannot afford regular education in Swazi. However, (contrary to what I had hoped) just because they enjoy school doesn't mean that they behave. They are just like any other teenagers around the world--little rascals. ;)
On a serious note, I have been both amazed and humbled by many of my students' responses to the writing prompts I give them. Just to give you a taste of who some of these young men and women are, I am including a handful of their writing responses below.
Yesterday, I read the students an African story called, "Fly, Eagle, Fly," and afterwards I had them write in their journals about what they would do or where they would go if they could fly like the eagle. These are a few responses:
Mciniseli, 13: “If I could fly like an eagle, I could go to the mountain.
If I could fly like an eagle, I could go to the mountain because the air comes nice and my wings could streach and streach.
I could go to my grandmother and visit her because her house at Mololotja is to far away from town I could fly and fly and reach there.
I would fly up to the mountains, hills, and up the sky so I can see the hool world.”
Ncobile, 15: “If I cold fly like an eagle I will fly up into the sky and see the moon and stars.
I will fly to China I will want to see the country of China. I could fly to visit Mantenga Falls.
I could fly to Zimbabwe to visit president Mngabe. I could fly to visit at Durban.
I could fly to visit at U.S.A. I could fly up to heave to see Jesus and Angels.
I could fly to visit Zambia because I want to know all the countrys in the world.”
Vukane, 15: "If I can fly like an eagle I can go to visit other country like USA and South Africa. I can fly to this country because I want to get a job when I finish school.
I can fly there until I get money to the job so that I can do many thing with the money.
What I can do with the money is that, I can give my mother so that she can buy food for us at home.
The rest of the money I fly to Somalia to give the poor people so that God my blessed me. I wish to fly like an eagle so that I can enjoy my life.”
Here are a few other entries from previous writing prompts (some are sweet, some might make you cry):
Thabani, 13: “When I am grow up I want to be a soldier then when I get my casn I will make a business by build the shops then I buy something that I will sell in the shop. Then I make many business in Swaziland then I will be the business man. Then I help the poor people an give them food shelter. And I will go around the streat and fetch children that they need shelter and give them education.”
Vukane, 15: “If I can get four gold coins I can spend the money by buying nice clothes for my sister and I. After that I give my mother the change for buying food like rice, meat, and vegetable.”
“My mother is my hero. Because she look after me she cares for every one at home. She put me at school so that I can lern about every thing. My mother is my hero because she know that she mus buy clothes for us so that we will look likes other childrens.”
Nobuhle, 15: “There are many bad days in my life but to day I want to write about the worst day in my life.
It was Thursday I was at home with my step mother. My step mother boil water after boiling the water she than call me. And she tell me that I have to clean the house.
When Im bussy clening the house she than take the boil water and put it on me this how that day became the worst day on me.”
What do you want to learn? “I want to learn about how to write spellings and what you think it can help me in my life.
How can I help you become a better student? “I want you to teach me about what you think it can help me. By teach me how to do all of this things that you think it can make me to be better.
Nolwazy, 14: “My name is Nolwazy Kunene. I live at Modonsa. I’m 14 year old. I go to Enjabulweni Study Centre. I live with my mam and sisters. In my family we are five. I like to play netball, swimming and dance. I like colour pink, orange, green and yellow. My father was died long ago and I do not know him.”
“When I grow up I want to be a nurse. I want to finish school first. I want to go to University and achive my ambision. I want to help sick people in Swaziland and helps poor people. I pray to God and give me a power to help those who need to help. I want to build a beautiful house and have two children boy and girl. I want to help my family because is poor. I want to help people to building they house. In life you must know that life is too difficult. I want to build my mom beautiful house and beautiful car.”
So... I figure the best way to tell you how teaching is going is to show you the hearts of some of my students. Though they can be frustrating (like today...they wouldn't listen for the life of me), I count myself truly blessed to be in a position to teach such eager and thirsting hearts. If you think of it...pray for them, their dreams, their futures...their lives.
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