Thursday was supposed to be a side trip to the city of Kitgum with a priest named
Father Patrick. We were not going to teach and just enjoy the trip squired by our tour guide extraordinaire, Otim John. It took a much different tone.
The students of S3 (think juniors or sophomores) have been upset for more than a week that they had not received the goat they were promised for winning the sports day. (Track and Field competition). Things happen a little differently here. Student strikes happen at school as young people sometimes find this the only way to air their grievances. So the entire S3 was gathered at the headmaster's office, to complain, they wanted their goat. By the way, they did not want the goat as some sort of pet or mascot, they wanted it to eat. Their daily diet consists of posho and beans, and that might be the best meal they get all day. The head teacher walked away, after some conversation. All of a sudden, the students started tearing down part of the tree. I thought they were just angry and wanted to wreck something, but they were actually (we were told matter of factly by one of the teachers watching) fashioning canes and switches to cane the head teacher.
It was kind of tough to figure out where I was at this time. I could see the rage of young people and the actions of the mob seemed to border on the lowest common intelligence. I am not sure anyone was thinking straight, but they were angry and frustrated, and in many cases hungry for too long. The group soon surrounded the head teacher around the latrines. Teachers scrambled to try to get the local police force to the school. The head teacher listened some more to the students, although Bill and I were quite some distance away at this time. We talked a little bit about what we should do, we both kind of agreed, that we would do something if someone innocent was getting hurt, but really had no idea what that meant. Three policemen soon arrived on one motorbike, and soon there were 5 there. Bill and I also talked that this action might result in mass suspensions for students and our time at Atanga might end very quickly. We both lamented that we would really miss saying good-bye to the students we have met. There was some throwing of branches, but the students eventually went to their two classrooms. Sam, a great young teacher, came by and told me that we needed to teach these students. There was an urgency in his voice, but also a real pragmatism and a compassion too. He told me that the 3A's were scheduled for math, and I and Otim John should go teach. So approximately 30 minutes after I was trying to figure out how to stop this unhealthy group mentality, I was teaching 40 of them how to simplify the square root of 8. There was a real enthusiasm to this group (as 45 minutes of adrenalin pumping will do). Since I had taught this group last, I immediately jumped into a long homework problem from the night before. The class went very well, but before I left I told them, that they had an incredible school and this group in this class was talented. I told them that I believed in them, and would always believe in them. But then reminded them that they were responsible for their own future, and taking action, bad types of action, could seriously derailt these futures. I had just read them the day before the last 5 paragraphs of Obama's speech to Africa, specifically to the youth of Africa. It was really the same message. I tend to be the optimist, but I was really encouraged that more students than ever before, brought their math homework to the shade of the tree later in the day. I think they were really trying to show me that they also believed in their own selves. Either way, they are too young, and too precious to give up on.
Second story---Later in the same day, there was a young man sitting on the grass and getting chastised in Lwo for some indiscretion. He would alternatively draw on his shoe with his pen, or just act in pain when he listened to the teachers. Here is his story: he stole casava (think big potato) from the fields and was caught. He was given two weeks to bring his parents in to settle on a disciplinary action. The two weeks had long past, and this young man did not live up to this agreement. During the course of their discussion, Otim John told me that it turns out that his last living parent, had been killed in the conflict in 2006 and he was now living with his brother. John is convinced that this student cannot learn, because he is an orphan and has no direction at home. His older brother, who is working hard being a shopkeeper in town, is providing some support to this boy. Otim John and all the Ugandan teachers are very effective in their own world, and it is tough to explain it, but I think in order to educate some, they give up on many. I think without this approach, maybe more would be lost, but it certainly does not make it any easier to take. I have let kids go before, but it is always painful. I am not sure what I can do in one week, but I would like to see if this is one I can also help. I cannot think of the alternative.
So this week I met many hungry young men and women. They not only lack food, but also a world where violence does not win. A world where men and women with quiet intelligence can speak louder than the braying of the mob. A world where reason wins out over anger and where patience wins out over frustration.
There will be ways when I get back that you can join me in trying to bring this world above to the students of Northern Uganda. I encourage you to help my young friends.
A Dream Deferred
by Langston Hughes
What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore-- And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over-- like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?
still here tilting at windmills, but I am convinced I can slay these dragons
John Quixote
No comments:
Post a Comment