via CAAI News Media
Lyndsay Wehrumt
Issue date: 2/11/10
It had been 6 days since I hugged him goodbye. When I arrived at his "house" located on the dumpsite in Phnom Penh, the capital city of Cambodia, his hair was already thinning and strewn with lice, clothes tattered and covered in dirt, and he had acquired a nasty cough and nickel sized sore on his shoeless foot.
This dumpsite, known as Stung Meanchey, is where four of my students' families live. Until recently, they were able to scavenge through this dumpsite's rotting food, hypodermic needles, and shards of broken glass, (usually barehanded and shoeless) for recyclable scraps to earn an "income." The garbage is burnt daily here and a 2002 health study by Japan's Ehime University's Center for Environmental Studies revealed that there are "high levels of carcinogenic dioxin in the area and people are exposed to high concentrations of mercury, cesium and cadmium which affect the nervous, endocrine and immune systems." However, construction of a new dumpsite far from their homes has resulted in the families bringing in even less money (less than $1/day) because of the added transportation fees.
I arrived midday at Stung Meanchey to find my former student sprawled out on a bamboo slat outside his home playing with two marbles with his mother sitting idly beside him. She is a single mother and unable to read or do basic math. I was surprised to find her home at 12pm as she has to support herself and three sons, which she does by sewing rice sacks, when she feels like it. The only thing she was doing however was gossiping with women around her and yelling at me in Khmer about her son's dismissal from our school. I couldn't help but wonder how she was planning to put food on the table for her children that night, if they even had a table. 
This student was dismissed from our school because of an extended period of disrespect towards students and staff, frequent class absences, selling of school property, and so forth. He has recently been readmitted to our school with "one final chance." As I write, I am watching him and another student share a pair of headphones, singing along to Akon's "Smack That," during the time allotted for a nap and/or homework. I know that in less than one hour's time, this same "reformed" student will be feigning sleep in class, scowling at my instructions, and will not have his homework completed.
In many cases, his behavior seems unchanged. At a soccer match his first weekend back, I took him out to substitute in another player. All of the students who were younger than him understood this system but he stormed away from the team, mumbling in Khmer. During the weekly reading time, my attempts at finding an appropriate book for him were met with scowls and grunts of dissatisfaction which escalated to him leaving the room when I asked him to read at least some of a book before drawing a picture.
My attachment to him is growing stronger however as I am teaching him 1:1, three times a week. While reading together we arrive at many challenging words he does not know. Uninstructed, he writes every word and later looks up the Khmer translation. One sentence in his book was "I know you want…" and he jumped up and started singing and dancing "I know you want me" by Pitbull. We play hangman at the end of class and although he can choose any word, he decides on new words from his list, and beats me.
My reformed student's musical companion has left me in awe in a completely different way. After cursing at me and the other staff under his breath in Khmer, skipping classes, and erupting in bouts of laughter during the flag ceremony for two consecutive weeks, I awaited his next indiscretion. Instead, I discovered that he saved every Reil (2.5 pennies equivalent) of the Christmas money he received from the school (unlike many of the other students who spent at least a portion of it on a new article of clothing or candy), to send home to his family. At times he is one of the worst behaved students but also comes from one of the worst family situations; a history of abuse, a father with brain damage from a motor-bike accident, and an 11 person family whose income comes from collecting and selling vegetables. Their "home," which can be compared to a glorified chicken coop, rests on land which they don't own and is located far from the market. His family must spend more than half of their earnings (less than $1/day/person) on this commute.
One of my best students also calls the Stung Meanchey dumpsite home and is 18 years old, a first year University student, a mentor to the newly admitted students, and has recently obtained her first part time job. She was raised by her single mother and grandmother who make bracelets and necklaces from rolled up colorful paper. These can now be purchased in our school's café and boutique, Joe-To-Go, and have proven to be a hot commodity for tourists and hopefully for my friends back home. More importantly, selling these pieces in our boutique has provided her family with much needed funds.
Of my 24 students: 7 have family histories of abuse, 8 have parents with alcohol abuse, 10 were raised by a single parent, and 3 are orphans. Most of these parents cannot read, write, or maintain a job. When my students are having difficulty in school or in finding the proper motivation, their families are not the ones to turn to as in some cases they act as greater hindrances by actually encouraging them to leave school to make money.
However, I am still surprised/frustrated with many of my students complete apathy at times towards learning or towards seizing additional opportunities we offer such as soccer programs, movie nights, scavenger hunts, bike rides, or arts and crafts. I have to continually remind myself that they are kids, kids who had an upbringing that I will never be able to fully comprehend. While my childhood memories are of splashing in my turtle shaped swimming pool or the beaches in Cape Cod, my students have memories of sleeping and begging on the streets, and being responsible for their families' survival. These childhood experiences are still deeply engrained and have great effects on their behavior. In my moments of frustration, I need to remind myself that they are kids, and regardless of their histories, perhaps some characteristics are universal. The most important thing is to recall their backgrounds, let frustrations slide, and be a reason for them to enjoy school and learning in order to give them the greatest chance possible to create better lives for themselves.
Editor's Note:
You can read Lyndsay's blog @http://ublog.union.edu/wehruml
No comments:
Post a Comment