we have to condemn violence---always

“It is with a heavy heart and sadness in my voice, that I talk to you today…..”, began my words today as I addressed the entire student body of Atanga SS. When I arrived at Atanga today, I was not thinking this would be the blog post tonight. I was already to write Part III of journey to Pajuule, but then again things change. I still my write that, a lot of funny stuff, I still have not even gotten to. But………….. Because the Safari got in late last night, we spent the night in Gulu, and were prepared to come to Atanga by morning tea. I thought there was a lesson to teach after morning tea, but it turned out it was a Senior 4 lesson that is not happening due to their extended mock examinations. So what to do all day, it was sure to be a boring day with not much to do. I saw the students start to gather in the grass, and asked my partner teacher if I could listen. It was great, they were dividing all of the students in between the teachers, as the beginning of a mentoring program. I wish this wasn’t happening the last week, as it would have been fun to have had an Ugandan advisory group. Those students who were in my Advisory groups at Priory, Loyola, and Nerinx will always have an extra place in my heart. The names were read with some humor and the students groaned and laughed as each teacher was announced—pretty typical stuff. The teacher announcing it referred to his group as “my sons and daughters” and it looked like the whole thing was the planning and idea of my partner teacher, Okidi Polycarp. What a great thing, and done right could have a real influence on students who needed guidance in the village that sometimes struggles. After all the names were read, I saw a seat open up, but was not quick enough to get there, so I sat on a bench. The students were encouraged not to leave, because there was “a ceremony, some program to follow”. There were two village people at the ceremony in chairs to my left. When a teacher got up to speak, I took his chair next to these two as I feared the bench would break due to my size. The speeches to the students were often in Lwo, which is more common in this school, then schools in Gulu. I could tell that a couple of students were in trouble, but I did not know what for. There had been a meeting last week, where the school was trying to mediate with the village, some punishment for students who had stolen crops, and had been caught by the villagers. The student in front of me was instructed to lay on his belly full extended, and now I realized that just 15 feet from me, this student was going to be caned in front of the entire student body. The behavior of the student body was slightly troubling, as jokes made in Lwo, I assume at the expense of the thief, made them all laugh and smile. I was still hoping maybe this could be just an empty threat, but it was not to be. A female teacher placed 4 green rods about an ½ inch to an inch thick right near the boy. Speeches and words continued in Lwo to the students. The boy on the ground stared at me without expression, and I stared back not knowing what to do. The speeches were soon over, and a teacher and a friend picked through the sticks to find the right one, he hiked up the boys pants an inch or two to make sure they covered his waist, and dealt a hard blow to the boy’s buttocks. The uniform pants are thin, and the boy reacted in obvious pain, as the teacher, my friend, and a good teacher readied another blow. Each blow had two reactions from the student, a wince before it landed, and pain, crushing pain when it did. The assembled students reacted differently, but many laughed. Four blows were struck, and the student was instructed to move on. I had thought about just walking away, I felt since my chair was one of three right there, it felt like I was a Roman Emperor advocating the punishment. I wished I had stayed on the bench! I did not look at the reactions of the villagers, who it turned out were the parents of the two offenders. The mother of the one had said in Lwo, she was not strong enough to deliver the blows, so she wanted the teacher to do it. Another speech might have been made in Lwo, I do not know. I was trying to find a different place to go in my head. Another boy was led to the front of the seated assembly and also received 4 blows from the hand of my teacher and my friend. Another teacher got up and addressed the students about not engaging in behavior that would warrant these blows. Caning is supposed to be forbidden by the government, but it happens, and happens more in the village schools and villages. I had seen it before, but not in this public arena of shaming. The boy who was caned first was on his second or third caning from this offense. I then thought about reading Jonathan Kozol’s book and remembering his story about him being encouraged to pick out a paddle at the teacher supply store in the mid – 60’s. I thought about what Father Boyle has to say about violence and how it crushes the soul of the young. As there was a break in speeches, I asked the head teacher if I could address the students. I thought it was time to preach my beliefs. I did not know how the teachers and administration would react. I have tended to underestimate this reaction to my criticisms in my most recent past. He said yes. I was prepared to resign from Atanga, and leave the Invisible Children program if necessary. I did not want to be disrespectful to their culture or their efforts. But, I had to do something…………The students roared with laughter and approval, as I stood up, what better way to keep this carnival going then to hear from the giant American. I stood there silent for about 30 seconds, and told them I was waiting for quiet, and began, “It is with a heavy heart and sadness in my voice, that I talk to you today. I have loved Atanga SS, you students are amazing and the teachers and my colleagues are amazing. I have respect for all of you, and I hope my words are not disrespectful. I have enjoyed working with Invisible Children and its amazing program. ….. “ If might is right, and we allow violence to win, then love has no place in our world. And I believe in all of my teaching that love does have a place in our schools.” I went on to say more words, careful to use words to condemn the caning without condemning individuals or the culture. I said to the students, “When you laugh at the sorrow and the suffering of your classmates, I believe you have lost something important inside of yourself. I believe we have all lost something important.” I don’t remember what else I said other than my words were brief. In my language and my accent, my words may not have been understood by many of the students. The head teacher then talked in Lwo for 10 minutes or so. I later learned that he told the students that I was serious and my heart was broken by what I saw. He was disappointed that the misdeeds of these students had embarrassed the school. Then, the head teacher returned to English, and began thanking Isaac and me for our service to the school. He mentioned that we would be there until Thursday of this week, so I surmised that my words had not caused my dismissal. It was a strange juxtaposition, and another surprise. I talked to several teachers, and they understood I was not happy or agreed with the practice of caning. I talked to my friend and told him that all of my success as a teacher, had happened because my students know that I cared about them, and by being the hand of violence, it may hurt who he was as a teacher. Isaac and I were invited to Alfred’s for dinner and talked some more about the day. I know I am a strange man in a strange land, and to me to talk to the Ugandans about the hardships of violence was like …… well no words come, but I do not feel qualified to lecture when they have suffered so much by such brutality of the war for the last two decades. It was good to be in the small sitting room of my friend Alfred enjoying a meal cooked wonderfully by his wife. Watching him hug his youngest, and being very gentle with Mercy the small girl, I ended the night seeing love. And as I reflect on a couple of long days, I am going to pray tonight for both of the thieves that somewhere, somehow before the rainy season ends that they feel love from someone in a small village in northern Uganda called Lacekocot.