Reading, Sunshine, and Serenity

February- March

"All children who can read, stand."

Students throughout the school turned to each other, laughing slightly. Eventually self-proclaimed "literate" stood. About 1/3 of the school. It had always been on my mind, but seeing it laid out before me was a bit stunning.

In my class, 8 of the 10 students came. Of those 8, the number standing surprised me. Two. Two beautiful children saying to the rest of their peers and teachers "I can read." In most settings, I would be so disappointed in my class. Only two out of eight? That's not even half. But, coming from the beginning of term, when not a single student would have stood, this was improvement.  I was convinced the pride in my heart would cause it to swell out of my chest.

"Sit." The Senior Mistress of my school continued the assembly. "All students who cannot read, stand."

Silence stretched longer this time. Who would want to stand?  They would've preferred melting into the floor. But, fear, respect, or both, pushed many students out of their benches. Students exchanged half-smiles. Nothing new. They've known this since they were tiny. Everyone knows everyone, and everyone knows who can pick up any book they want, and who struggles with the basic readers.

The Senior Mistress walked to my class. My heart dropped.

"Look here. Why is it we have children in grades 5 and 6 who cannot read? Look at Ravo here," she paused. "He hardly used to come to school. He's lazy. Look how he's in grade 6 and he cannot read." She walked away from my class.

"All of you. You're too lazy. You play too much. You must study your books at home. And come out to school." Her passion seemed to have faded. "Sit."

Class resumed as usual. Me sitting at my desk, getting ready, children eagerly awaiting the first instructions of the day. But I couldn't get up and start math. I couldn't begin teaching. I couldn't ignore how my remedial class, who have been working so hard, were publicly humiliated. It's not like she's wrong. They do spend too much time playing. If they spent more time trying to read, we might see more progress. But, my background and perspective doesn't support this method of trying to change behavior.  

"Miss?" came the call from Ravo.

Sweet Ravo, who started coming to school more once I asked him to. Ravo, who doesn't have anyone literate at home to help. Ravo, who is doing his best.

  "Maths?" he asked.

"Just now," I said. I went to crouch in front of their desks. "Everything she just said---" I paused. "Do you think you've made progress?" 8 sets of eyes focused on me. Nods from most.

"You have. Each one of you has gotten better since I've started teaching you. I see it.  That's what I want you to remember." I took a deep breath. "She is right, it's important for you to come to school, and to read at home. But I also want you to remember how much better you've got. You are all learning. I am so proud of all of you."

My Class (8 of them)
From left to right: Sandra, Carlene, Joel, Devon, Denzil, Thaddaeus, Ravo, Aloma

It's possible what we're doing here isn't going to be enough. Being in a remedial class when you're in grade 5 or 6 is pretty bleak. Reading levels starting anywhere from before kindergarten, to grade 1; we've already come into this pretty late in the game for most of them. Some of them have already given up. What we do won't be enough for all of them. My belief in them won't be enough for all of them. But, maybe it will be for some. Maybe it will be enough.

Devon drew me in a boat, first without hair.
When I pointed that out, this is what I got.

Now that story time is done, I can tell you again how much I love my class. They are probably one of the best things about being out in Wakapoa. Every time I think I can't love them more, I do. They are incredible. I'm outrageously proud of one in particular. Joel started at a kindergarten reading level at the beginning of the term. Over the course of our time together, he's grown more confident and excited about reading. When I assessed him last week, he scored at a  grade 2 reading level! That's two reading levels in one term. I am beyond excited for him. The progress, and the joy my kids get from reading with me, that's what's really keeping me sane.

Afternoon in the creek

Being back in Wakapoa has been very positive recently, though. I feel a whole lot more integrated with my community. The barriers on both sides are coming down. I have been able to get along with a lot of my community members through football and swimming.

White bai here used to hate me, but now he
tolerates me. Especially when I flip him

Football is my jam. Except, I jammed a little too hard, and broke my toe on my team mates foot. Shucks, buddy. Not the most fun. But it should be healed in 3-6 weeks if all goes well? I assume. I do not know all too much about broken toes. Although, my knowledge does extend to knowing that rolling around a broken toe in an attempt to "pop it until it gets better" is not the best idea, because sharp bone fragments stabbing muscles is not a blast and a half. Nor even half a blast. It is the worst. But, now I have my broken toe taped to a normal toe, and I'm not really stepping on it, and it doesn't hurt cause I don't put pressure on it. But I am already super stoked for the day when I can use my foot like a foot again.

Dello, Myself, Tash(by far the best cheering section)

The exceptional, goal scoring Ella

Speaking of football, though, there was a wonderful competition day on another island in Wakapoa(Myrie) the other weekend which was fantastic. Ella scored the winning goal of our ladies team. (yeah Ella!)I am becoming a football(soccer) fan. Its rather fantastic. I'm also becoming obsessed with carving these small seeds(owara seeds) into rings. And playing with the bows the little boys make. It's so much fun. 

I am clearly the best at this.

Rawl and Devon rocking the bows.
Tongue concentration is obviously essential.

The british gals came over for a weekend recently as well! They met Jack. And loved him. As does everyone else ever. He is quite possibly the best. It was so nice having the girls visit and check out my island a little more. I absolutely love my island and enjoy showcasing the place a little. And my children. Everyone loves them because they are the greatest.

Ashley gave me this face when her mom and I
surprised her with cake on her birthday.
I don't think she can get much cuter.

 Do I live in Wakapoa or Georgetown?

Georgetown's lattice-work of streets is becoming increasingly familiar. Particularly between trainings and trainings, and working groups and more trainings. Even armed with embarrassingly low directional capabilities, I'm getting a feel for the place. Between February and March I have been in Georgetown so much I could be convinced that I live here instead. I would also cry because I am way more content in Wakapoa.  Georgetown has more stuff to do, and many more things to buy, but I don't know if I can get over the sound pollution, trash, and pervasive cat calls. Georgetown does have its benefits in the form of internet, food, and volunteers. The depth of love and support developed in the Peace Corps family in the time we spend together is pretty outrageous. I continually feel really lucky to have this crew who was my back regardless of the situation. In February we said goodbye to yet another GUY 26er, Andrew. We're all going to miss him. Wishing the best for him.

Phagwah, a hindu celebration, was also among the greatest of things. We got to put colored powder on strangers and have it slathered on our faces and hair. Love it. Some children and I also played "who is faster and can throw lightweight powder the farthest". The powder throwing was somewhat less that successful, but the game itself was a great success in the pursuit of fun. I did cut my toe though and it has not yet healed. My poor feet, man. This country is not easy on them.




JackJackJackJackJackJackJackJackJackAttackAttackAttackAttackAttackAttackAttackAttack

"Yes, Shenell. Tell me more about these words."

Last but not least, I would like to introduce you to Jack. Jack Attack. Keeper of my house and my happiness. I'm pretty sure his eyes are a little bit offset, which makes me adore him even more.

#JackAttack 

There will be zero sweeping today. Love, Jack

He is still exceptionally small and I'm afraid he's going to get eaten by a larger creature. Maybe a tarantula or something(#jk #IstillhavemypettarantulawhoIlove).

He was, is, and always will be excessively adorable.

Aw yeah.

If you've enjoyed seeing some of the pictures I've posted this go round, go ahead and check out my facebook where they are a ton more.(I finally posted them.)

Shout outs:

Mom and Dad, how you continue to be mountains of support for me is beyond comprehension. I love you.

Having you guys around is better than
having an adorable kitten on my neck.
Which is pretty great.

Kat, the joy I got from your voice message was immense. And the fact that you're still willing to do something a little silly and precious with me brings me great joy.

Brittany, I know you and I are both not very emotional people, but you've really been there for me lately, and I don't even have words for how great that is.

Mel, thank you for keeping me in the loop of everything even though I know there's a physical gap, we're still right there.

Mat, Eben, Jeremy and Ella, thanks for the music suggestions. Expanding my horizons and keeping me from slamming my head against a wall.

GAD folks for getting GLOW stuff set up and helping me with stupid questions which you've probably answered.

Ash, for being amazing in a million and one ways and inspiring me to be better. I really look up to you(figuratively of course) and wish you all the best in your journey.