Literacy 101

I am currently taking a graduate course online and was given an assignment that caused me to reflect on what I’m doing here – I still stop and ask myself that question a lot. We were to read the short story, “Thank You, M’am” by Langston Hughes and respond to a quote of our choice from the text. Now, if you don’t want to engage in my little assignment, no problem, but I do think you should find the short story and read it (or re-read it). I’ll also mention briefly that I get marked down on APA criteria and other details all the time, so easy on me, English teachers – enough red marks already.

“The woman said, “You ought to by my son. I would teach you right from wrong. Least I
can do right now is to wash your face. Are you hungry?””

This quote is simple, but carries a lot of weight. The woman sees the boy’s need for love and guidance. Even in her harsh tone, deep concern and compassion is expressed. She is aware, however, that she cannot fulfill the role of a parent or lifelong mentor – it is not her responsibility, nor her place to bear it. Despite the unspoken boundaries that exist, this woman seizes the opportunity to do what she can to take care of the boy and teach him a lesson that will last – a moral lesson, yes, but also a lesson on grace and love. She cannot save him from the pain or neglect in his life, but she can offer her heart and wisdom, a bar of soap, and a cup of cocoa.

This quote speaks to me on a personal level and certainly resonates with me as an educator. I have had many students in my classroom who remind me of this boy. They have walked through the door with dirt in the folds of their necks, soiled clothes, and black teeth. My natural desire is to take these children home and provide a safe, clean, loving environment, but, like the woman, I recognize that it is not my place to do so. What I can offer is a safe, clean, loving environment for part of their day. I can challenge them to grow and give them tools to be successful. If I have one hour a day, then let me use it well. If I have one year to show children that they are valuable and capable, that is my “right now.” The woman saw the needs of the boy and offered what she could at that moment. This quote allows me to see the significance of every small opportunity to give and to teach. It reminds me of the words spoken by Theodore Roosevelt: “Do what you can, with what you have, where you are.”

Right now I am living and teaching in Cambodia – I cannot walk down the street without seeing extreme poverty. I know the change I would like to see. There is an endless list of things I “ought to” do or things that “ought to” be, but I cannot take on that responsibility. So, today I will help my students develop a second language, a skill that could give them more options in the future. I will teach them to think in a new way. I will laugh with them and enforce the consequences of copying homework or hitting (there was, in fact, a lot of love in the reprimand of Mrs. Luella Bates Washington Jones), and I will eat lunch or play volleyball with them in an effort to build trust and strengthen relationships. It doesn’t seem like much and won't solve all the problems, but it’s my bar of soap.

Back in the Saddle… Or on the Tuk Tuk Anyway

I’m back in Cambodia after a beautiful month and a half at home… breathing fresh, COOL mountain air, eating dinner with my parents, dancing with the most handsome guy I know, and pretending I was part of the Eastern coaching staff. Now back to sweating by sunrise, navigating busy streets and eating the tropical fruit in season (cannot pronounce it, nor can I spell). I was greeted at the airport by my good friend and three teachers from Goldstone – all smiling and waving. There were lots of hugs when I arrived at the school, a quick glimpse at pictures and new books, then back to the routine. A weird transition – very familiar and still very foreign. I wasn’t worried at all this time – just sad to leave home. It has been easy to get back into the swing of things – I know where to go, I know how to give the same poor directions in poorly spoken Khmer, and I know which foods to avoid (not many, of course) - but it’s kind of wild to hop across cultures so quickly. Saturday I was in an air-conditioned car and Monday afternoon I was swerving around cabbage trucks on the back of a motorcycle.
I have a new home for this stint – I loaded my bags and bike (which hasn’t been stolen yet) onto the tuk and moved in one trip. It’s a simple life here. I’m now only five minutes from the school by bicycle and next to a small market where they sell seatbelts, baguettes and bananas. The house is linked to four others behind a big red gate on the edge of a quaint little pond. The water looks nice in the morning - the reflection of the sun glows while water lilies (and Styrofoam) float by. The pond is better observed from the window, however, because it is really the dumpsite for the waste in our area. I don’t know who thought building on the sewage system was a good idea, but here sits our cozy home. And it is cozy – my roommate is one of the warmest individuals I have met. She loves the Lord, loves ice cream, and loves me enough to welcome this wanderer with outstretched arms. I feel very much at home already. She is a teacher at a nearby international school, so we immediately began late night collaboration sessions. Her heart is huge, and I think she will teach me a lot in a short time. Our first challenge is to rid the kitchen of rats – a unifying task. A two-inch gap under the door to the back of the house and droppings in the bread basket indicated that we were sharing our space with dirty friends… but when I saw a little bugger scampering behind the fridge this morning, our efforts to exterminate increased. Asking for a rat trap in charades is one of the more amusing experiences I’ve had at a grocery store, but I was able to walk away with “rat glue,” which looks a lot like burnt taffy and has already proven effective. Gross. Pretending I don’t hear the squeaks right now so I don’t have to pull clean-up duty. Our other housemate is a very mature sophomore whose parents are missionaries on the outskirts of Cambodia. She is staying in the city to attend high school - she has already lived in Cambodia nine years, so she knows the ropes. The three of us make up an odd little family, but I think we will all benefit in some way. I have gained a mentor, and I can possibly impart some wisdom on my new little sister, though she seems more sophisticated than me in many ways.
It’s important to mention that this leg of my journey will be shortened a little, and that I’ll be heading home no later than December. I’ve learned so much about my personal priorities by being away from the people who are most important to me… then being with them again. Things have become pretty simple: I need to be home. I need those relationships. And, well, I need to see if I can have one more dance. So I will be here to start the year with the students and staff, train the person who will take over my position, then return to Washington. I have shared plans and tears with the teachers here, and though it is difficult to think of goodbye, they understand how much I cherish relationships and are supportive. They were the ones who taught me more about the importance of family and community, after all. I will treasure the time I have here in this season and hopefully offer something of value before I leave. So here we go again!!