What Did You Have For Breakfast Today?
A few events in the last few days have really affected me. Let me explain by introducing Project Uplift. It's a reading program I learned about 2 or 3 weeks ago that puts volunteers in elementary classrooms, working with underprivileged children. Last Tuesday was my first day at an elementary school in the heart of Phoenix's roughest area. I was a little nervous driving down there and leaving my car parked across the street from loitering teens, homeless vagabonds, and crack houses. But I was running behind for my 9:15am appointment with Miss Johnson's class, and didn't let myself think about it too much.
After checking in with security, obtaining my "Visitor" badge, and being securely buzzed through two doors, the school secretary walked me to my kindergarten class. She explained that their elementary school had a large population of Somali refugees. Their parents are some of the lucky ones that escaped so far from the squalid refugee camps found just outside Somalia's borders. As one human rights activist put it, "The refugees are coming from nothing to nothing, in a place where there is nothing." Statements like this make me realize how lucky these people must feel to have made it to America. This will be evident to me later in the day.
The elementary school also houses a large homeless child population and an English as a second language population. Growing up is tough enough, and it is difficult for me to fathom what life must be like for these children living in homeless shelters or on the street with their parents. Maybe the fear of ridicule for not wearing clean clothes, or being able to take a bath is lessened when so many other children in your school are going through the same thing....I don't know.
I soon walked through the doors to my classroom. Without the detailed background I had just been given, I would have pegged this kindergarten class for any other normal group of kids in America. They wore navy blue shorts and white polo shirts as their uniform. Some were a little dingier than others, but their exuberance, childlike fascination with the new adult in the room, and general excitement for life was contagious! I forgot for a moment how desperately needy these beautiful children were.
A blonde, young, and tired Miss Johnson took a hurried few minutes to explain that I was going to be reading one on one with some of her children needing help with the alphabet. I was given an alphabet chart, a ruler to use as a pointer, and a book called Look Out Kindergarten, Here I Come!. My first child practically bounced his way over to our reading station from his tiny little plastic chair. He was from Somalia, spoke with a thick accent, but was in love with learning. He was excited to show me how much he knew, and read through the alphabet in no time. He then wanted to do it again, but faster. He absolutely beamed from ear to ear when I told him how well he'd done and that I was proud of him for knowing so much! He had the whitest teeth I've ever seen. They were literally like tiny white Chiclets. When it came time to read the book, his eyes widened with every turning page. It became obvious that his parents spend quite a bit of time reading and studying with him. He knew more than any child I read to that day, and I silently wondered if that was because his parents knew how grateful they should be to live in America. If they knew the educational opportunities that will be afforded to their precious son. If they want to give him a fighting chance at life by emphasizing the importance of education early on. Or maybe he was just bright...I'll never know.
The rest of my children were English as a second language students. It was clear to me that English is not spoken at home. Not only did almost none of them know the alphabet, but when I tried to associate the letter with it's picture (such as the letter G associating with green grapes) they couldn't identify the picture either. I tried to pull out every random Spanish word I've ever known to coordinate with each letter, but most kids just weren't getting it. They just stared at the letters and wouldn't even try to sound them out with me. I don't think there's ever been a time where I wished I spoke Spanish more. I wanted to help these children understand, help them learn the very basics of English. If they fall through the cracks in kindergarten, it will only be an uphill climb for them the rest of their lives. Reading is so crucial, and I wish these children were being showered with translation services and tutors....I know there is no money for that in the educational budget, but it pained my heart to deal with it in real time. It also made me wish that their parents took the time to learn English and teach it to their darling children.
As we read our book, the main character is told by his mother that he needs to eat a good breakfast before his first day of kindergarten. He sits down at the table with his mom and dad, eats three pancakes, a bowl of fruit, and a glass of milk. As we read this page, I noticed that each child got wide eyed and excited, and it was enough to make me ask what they had for breakfast that morning. My heart broke. I wanted to shrivel up inside as many said nothing. One girl was excited as she held up two pink polish tipped fingers and said happily with her thick accent "I had TWO bread!". The next time you see an infomercial asking for $1 a day to feed a child in Africa, I'm not telling you to not give. I'm just asking you to remember that we have starving children in America. These children need help. Give to your local food bank, give to your church, support the many programs out there to feed these innocent little American children, volunteer. Just do something.
There is an overwhelming need in America, and it is becoming so common to hear stories of desperation. I wish I could give more. More accurately, I wish I knew what to give, or how to give. I feel so inadequate. I'm just trying to remember that "It is every man's obligation to put back into the world at least the equivalent of what he takes out of it." -Albert Einstein.
After checking in with security, obtaining my "Visitor" badge, and being securely buzzed through two doors, the school secretary walked me to my kindergarten class. She explained that their elementary school had a large population of Somali refugees. Their parents are some of the lucky ones that escaped so far from the squalid refugee camps found just outside Somalia's borders. As one human rights activist put it, "The refugees are coming from nothing to nothing, in a place where there is nothing." Statements like this make me realize how lucky these people must feel to have made it to America. This will be evident to me later in the day.
The elementary school also houses a large homeless child population and an English as a second language population. Growing up is tough enough, and it is difficult for me to fathom what life must be like for these children living in homeless shelters or on the street with their parents. Maybe the fear of ridicule for not wearing clean clothes, or being able to take a bath is lessened when so many other children in your school are going through the same thing....I don't know.
I soon walked through the doors to my classroom. Without the detailed background I had just been given, I would have pegged this kindergarten class for any other normal group of kids in America. They wore navy blue shorts and white polo shirts as their uniform. Some were a little dingier than others, but their exuberance, childlike fascination with the new adult in the room, and general excitement for life was contagious! I forgot for a moment how desperately needy these beautiful children were.
A blonde, young, and tired Miss Johnson took a hurried few minutes to explain that I was going to be reading one on one with some of her children needing help with the alphabet. I was given an alphabet chart, a ruler to use as a pointer, and a book called Look Out Kindergarten, Here I Come!. My first child practically bounced his way over to our reading station from his tiny little plastic chair. He was from Somalia, spoke with a thick accent, but was in love with learning. He was excited to show me how much he knew, and read through the alphabet in no time. He then wanted to do it again, but faster. He absolutely beamed from ear to ear when I told him how well he'd done and that I was proud of him for knowing so much! He had the whitest teeth I've ever seen. They were literally like tiny white Chiclets. When it came time to read the book, his eyes widened with every turning page. It became obvious that his parents spend quite a bit of time reading and studying with him. He knew more than any child I read to that day, and I silently wondered if that was because his parents knew how grateful they should be to live in America. If they knew the educational opportunities that will be afforded to their precious son. If they want to give him a fighting chance at life by emphasizing the importance of education early on. Or maybe he was just bright...I'll never know.
The rest of my children were English as a second language students. It was clear to me that English is not spoken at home. Not only did almost none of them know the alphabet, but when I tried to associate the letter with it's picture (such as the letter G associating with green grapes) they couldn't identify the picture either. I tried to pull out every random Spanish word I've ever known to coordinate with each letter, but most kids just weren't getting it. They just stared at the letters and wouldn't even try to sound them out with me. I don't think there's ever been a time where I wished I spoke Spanish more. I wanted to help these children understand, help them learn the very basics of English. If they fall through the cracks in kindergarten, it will only be an uphill climb for them the rest of their lives. Reading is so crucial, and I wish these children were being showered with translation services and tutors....I know there is no money for that in the educational budget, but it pained my heart to deal with it in real time. It also made me wish that their parents took the time to learn English and teach it to their darling children.
As we read our book, the main character is told by his mother that he needs to eat a good breakfast before his first day of kindergarten. He sits down at the table with his mom and dad, eats three pancakes, a bowl of fruit, and a glass of milk. As we read this page, I noticed that each child got wide eyed and excited, and it was enough to make me ask what they had for breakfast that morning. My heart broke. I wanted to shrivel up inside as many said nothing. One girl was excited as she held up two pink polish tipped fingers and said happily with her thick accent "I had TWO bread!". The next time you see an infomercial asking for $1 a day to feed a child in Africa, I'm not telling you to not give. I'm just asking you to remember that we have starving children in America. These children need help. Give to your local food bank, give to your church, support the many programs out there to feed these innocent little American children, volunteer. Just do something.
There is an overwhelming need in America, and it is becoming so common to hear stories of desperation. I wish I could give more. More accurately, I wish I knew what to give, or how to give. I feel so inadequate. I'm just trying to remember that "It is every man's obligation to put back into the world at least the equivalent of what he takes out of it." -Albert Einstein.
For I was an hungred, and ye gave me meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me in:
Naked, and ye clothed me: I was sick, and ye visited me: I was in prison, and ye came unto me.
Then shall the righteous answer him, saying, Lord, when saw we thee an hungred, and fed thee? or thirsty, and gave thee drink?
When saw we thee a stranger, and took thee in? or naked, and clothed thee?
Or when saw we thee sick, or in prison, and came unto thee?
And the King shall answer and say unto them, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me. – Matthew 25: 35-40
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