1/26-27 I’ll be hard-pressed to really find the right words to express our journeys to the local schools in Nyeri, but here goes it!
It’s Wednesday morning and we drive out into an anticipatory day. Kay “warns” me about some of the conditions I would encounter at these schools. (Every year, the schools seek progress. movement from unpainted buildings without water, feeding programs, bathrooms, and necessary space for enough classrooms, let alone staff rooms, to functional schools with tools and libraries). I ready myself for a week that has already guaranteed to reach inside, rattle my bones, and touch my heart. The bumpy streets pave the way to our first destination: Milimani Primary School. We hop out of the van and immediately encounter morning greetings from a hundred or so different faces; an assembly-style line up on the front lawn where grass begs to grow and faculty members motion towards the small library. Ashley appears before the group of students and pulls out his book of poetry and artwork, and before we know it, his voice is ringing around the yard, “beautiful also are the souls of my people!” Students inch closer to this animated, intriguing man. Silent smiles, mixed feelings, eager ears, and hesitant responses are all juxtaposed against an unsettling image of rats gnawing at the food storage sacks in the corner of the run-down building for the small beginning students. Introductions, salutations, giggles, poetry sharing, dancing this dance of student-visitor interaction and suddenly, I find myself surrounded by a group of quiet but intelligent students gesticulating with me to the “I am a star” poem I’ve shared, occasionally picking one among them to share a poem of their own with me. Then suddenly, we’re hustled into the van and onto the next school for the day. You have got to be kidding me, I’m thinking as Charity attempts for the third time to gather the six of us up and onto the van. Where is the time running off to? We travel to two other primary schools in Nyeri on Wednesday- Kiboya (Ashley’s adopted school where he surprised the children with new uniforms, and they in turn shared an assortment of different performances right beneath the blazing sun) and Burguret, addressing large assemblies, and then speaking to individual grades and classes. For Thursday, we’ve planned to visit Muruguru (Kay Curtis’s adopted school), Nyeri Primary (somewhat tattered books in the library are positive signs of use, and testimony to the need for a new shipment), and finally a trip for me back to Mount Kenya Academy Primary to do a few class activities for the afternoon classes. I find an interesting balance between timidity and confidence, curiosity, and this impressive sense of respect for others that seems to breed the perfect equation for a lot of laughter and inevitably inspiring lessons and fun. The first morning at Milimani, I stood watching Ashley at work, and felt something speak through me right on spot; a poem I was encouraged to create and share right then, and carry around with me throughout the week. Thus, we left each primary school listening to a chorus of the memorized lines “I can shine, shine like a star”, and a promise from the students to practice it each week so it would stick and consequently aid them in reaching their goals. There was a certain give and take I learned to balance between in interacting with the students. On one end, I had plenty to share with them concerning the importance of reading, writing, working hard to reach goals, etc. At the same time, I cannot stress how important it was for me to learn from them. In the schools, we did activities ranging from writing workshops, confidence boosters, reading sessions, poetry rounds, and had an absolutely amazing time. Through these, I was able to share in the culture, the social concerns, the aspirations of youth in this part of the country, what was important to them as young people, and a slew of other aspects of their lives. For me, much of this trip revolved around what was offered on a social level: students allowing us to enter their worlds and them being able to see and experience ours to a certain extent. The experience has really made me consider the academic approach to the question of education in different parts of the world- I constantly was bombarded with the question of how this education system compared to those in the states. On a practical level, we were forced to examine how the vibrant energy in a school where the students were being fed was completely different from that in a school where the students did not have a feeding program. Furthermore, I found myself questioning what did education mean for many of these students? Was it, as a Swedish man confronted me on the trip, a waste of time for some of the students who would inevitably follow their parents into the coffee plant fields? What did this idea of “education” we shared do for them? It really allowed me to consider the power of creativity/poetry as a method of broadening the mind, making education something more than what happens in the classroom, something they could live by, regardless of where life takes them. My unique role as an author gave me leeway and leverage to really explore these questions. So again, stay tuned! The journey continues. In the meantime, here is a taste of the energy that’s flowing around here. Poem for the Little One How do I Undress my fears How do I Throw away the doubts That taunt me for my diligence Is it wrong to believe That I AM capable Of great things Am I willing To be different To be a leader Even when the world Seems like it is not on my side I will always feel alive And vibrant inside Because I know that persistence And an open mind Will take me there And there is where I want to be So watch out for me As I begin to blossom Touching stars Between your horizons I was not kidding When I licked my fingers And dug my hands in again This world is my haven And I will show you How my love and my talents Can uplift it Me, the light That will burn no matter how many winds blow Here I am Doing my best And being me And because of this Even through my tumbles And through my mistakes I cannot and will not fail. Back |