There is no better job than being a teacher. Something about seeing young faces light up with excitement is a hard sight to beat. That is why I immediately jumped at the opportunity to help out and teach 73 abandoned 2nd graders at the only school in my village. Their teacher just stopped showing up, which is unfortunately the same story with the doctor of the village.
My first day I was impressed with the respect I was shown. They are such good kids always saying, “S’il vous plait madame” while looking down at the floor and folding their hands over their chest trying to get my attention. They’re eager to participate raising their hands yelling “moi, moi!” And they return from their morning break anonymously placing a banana or bisap (hibiscus juice) on my desk. There are so many moments that make my day.
But there are so many more that make my heart melt where I stand. How can I get upset with a student who is not working because her parents can’t give her the money to buy a pencil? Do I give her the pencil while there are over 10 more students with the same problem? I can’t just give, how is that sustainable? Or what about their poor excuse of a classroom? It’s large enough but 3 to a bench, crumbling walls and their vulnerability to the Harmattan winds are not conducive to learning. Each morning before class they run outside collecting tiny, dried branches to use as a broom in order to tidy up the class.
Or what about the disparity in levels? There are over 70 students in my class ranging from ages 7-11 years old. 70+ students in one room! I get exhausted from doing one round. This is a primary school not some lecture hall at a university. Kids need more individual attention. Or one of the even harder things is the culturally expected punishment in the form of whipping! Sadly, I’ve grown accustomed to it from seeing and hearing it throughout the village. But in an institution that upholds education? I was shocked when a parent tried to talk to the other teachers in encouraging me to use the whip and was actually given one.
How do I even begin to express the weight on my heart? These kids aren’t dumb; they just don’t have the resources to learn. And also there is really no motivation to learn because they’ll most likely become cultivators like everyone else in the family. The more I dwell on these concerns the more hopeless I feel. What can I do? I am only one person.
“I am only one, but I am still one. I cannot do everything but I can do something. I will not refuse to do the something I can do.” –Helen Keller
(My friend, Jess, another PCV, wrote this on the wall in my hut. Thanks babe!
I’ve opted to use the reward system. If their work is above satisfactory I will provide them a pencil. If their work is excellent they will also get a pencil sharpener. That’s a start. But more importantly than providing resources is providing something much simpler. There is power behind a smile, a pat on the back, or in the sincerity of “good work.” My time here will have been well spent if just one of my students gains the confidence to lift his or her eyes from the floor.
