A Beachy Halloween

Happy Halloween! This Halloween was like none other Halloween I’ve had before. Cape Town doesn’t really celebrate this holiday although it’s just now starting to become popular because of all the American movies. Anyways…back to my holiday celebrations…..

I woke up early to go to the morning church service with one of my good friends and we both enjoyed a good cup of coffee and conversation afterwards. (Why do those two always seem to go hand in hand??) Next, we headed over to a bakery called Knead which just opened in our area of town. There’s another location on the beach, but it’s kind of a mission to get there so this new place is great! Because it just opened, they were giving away FREE cappuccinos and americanos and FREE oven fired pizzas, but wait…FREE FRESHLY BAKED BREAD!!!! We literally sat at our table sipping our free cappuccinos while they baked our loaves of bread. As soon as they came out of the oven, they wrapped them up and put them into our hands. Bread doesn’t come more fresh than this bread. Kneadless to say (sorry, couldn’t help myself) we each ate about half of our loaves of bread before heading off to our next destination—THE BEACH!

Now, I’ve always loved the beach and being from Missouri I especially treasure the hours spent in the sun and sand and water. Today was no different. We trekked down to a beach on the Atlantic side (much much colder) and set up our towels for fun in the sun. About every 20 minutes or so I would stop and exclaim… “Guys….we’re at the beach! And there’s a mountain behind us!” My poor South African friends just shook their head at my childish delight, but I didn’t care—I was in paradise. It was Halloween and I was on the beach playing paddle ball in my bikini. This doesn’t happen in Missouri. Ever.

I’ve just now arrived back at home and I think I will make a big dinner with my roommates and enjoy playing Scrabble with my Danish friends. (It’s really an unfair advantage for me, but they wanted to play so I can’t resist) In light of my last community blog, I just want to emphasize how much I’ve been blessed with such a great group of people here in South Africa. From my SA church buddies who would do anything for me to my Danish, German, Mexican, and Canadian roommates who want to play a game that deals with words in their second (or third!) language; I truly can say I am surrounded by amazing people. And that, dear friends, is just one more reason why I love this place so much J

PS- please don’t forget to brush your pearly whites tonight and tomorrow. All those sweets will catch up with your teeth!

Community Creation

Community (n) – a social group of any size whose members reside in a specific locality, share government, and often have a common cultural and historical heritage.

But is community merely that? People who reside in one place and share a government, culture and history? I’m always curious about how people create community--why certain people connect with some and not others. What kinds of things do you use to determine whether or not you will associate with a group of people and stay away from others? Or do you just flit around to all sorts of groups and therefore don’t really have a strong community of your own?

Maybe the fact that I just up and moved to Cape Town and had to create my own community has made me more aware of these questions, but I’m still curious nonetheless. All of my 8 other roommates had to do the same thing and it’s been interesting watching them create a sense of belonging and support system in a foreign country. Some of them have gone to bars and clubs to seek their friends, others have joined gyms and running clubs, some joined groups on campus and other still have sought community in churches and bible studies.

I know I’ve wrestled with the right balance of foreign to familiar culture. While Cape Town isn’t exactly the back hills of India or the tundra of Russia, there are certainly a plethora of cultures and communities to try and be involved in. People who are like each other will naturally gravitate towards each other because they like the same things, enjoy the same music, taste in food, music, movies etc. There is the township culture, the busy city culture, the hiking culture, the beach/surfing culture, the wine cultivation culture, the coloured culture, the white culture, the northern suburbs, the southern suburbs, the Christian culture, the Muslim culture, the non-religious culture, the community-development culture, the high-and-mighty culture, and the list goes on and on….

But where do I plug in? I want to experience as many different kinds of cultures and communities as possible because I believe there is SO much to be learned from all of them. Leaving your own culture and exploring another one helps you appreciate your own and adds new and exciting things to what you’ve already learned. I know that after a long time of being in a community much different from my own, I need to just come back and find a coffee shop to relax and reflect. I guess that’s where I feel the most at home.

This is an on-going line of thought I’ve been kicking around so I’m sure I’ll blog on it again, but through all of this there is one thing that is certain: We all long for community—we were created to be in community and no matter how far we travel through this earth, every human being longs to be in community and connection with others. The beauty of this fact is that there is an endless possibility of people to connect with. You may already be in good community or may still be seeking for that right mixture of people who you are comfortable with yet push you along to be the best you can be, but either way know that the person next to you needs to be in community just as much as you do. Don't live in isolation--we weren't meant for that. Create community.

The Tutu Ladies

As promised, here are pictures from the 10K race that the girls I participated in on 10-10-10. Enjoy!

Long Hours, but Worth Every Minute

This past Wednesday I had a very long day of working with the Foundation, but it was such a great day that I didn’t mind at all. Let me tell you about it….

I started the day as usual—walked to the train station, was in complete awe of the mountain, saw the regulars on the second car of the 208 train, headed to the office to open up my lap top and begin work for the day. After greeting everyone in the office, I responded to some emails (36 to be exact), chat to our MD about ideas for the gala, work on gala prizes, help Masi with some song choices for the next dance (his first pick was a Backstreet Boys song and I about died…I started singing and dancing along and then realized that the rest of the office was staring and then laughing at me…oh how I love my office, ha!). Next I had to fix Nwabisa’s computer because her program wouldn’t load correctly, give Easy a hug because he’s looking a bit down, back to the computer for more gala work (sending out the invites this time), take the CEO of Capitec bank on a quick tour of the office and tell him about what we do and the Amy Biehl story (impromptu request from the boss), update the website (press release just went out), charge the computers for the computer class, follow up with vouchers, then head to lunch at Damascus Gate (great chicken schwarmma).

Made it back to the office just in time to pack up and head out to the township and help out with the Foundation Phase kiddos again (total count for the day 56…well, that’s what we could determine). Colored with them a bit, sang some songs, helped spread jam on bread for the little ones then fed them. Took the transport to 3 different schools in order to get the right one to head to The River Club which is where our fundraising event took place.

Now, this is usually the part of the day when I’m exhausted and head home, but this night was something different. Several dance studios in town sponsored a Salsa and Tango fundraising event for the Amy Biehl Foundation and I managed to rope one of my roommates into helping out for the evening. I quick changed from the dirty jeans that had dirt, sand, snot, spit, crayon, and a bit of jam (all side effects of working with 56 little ones) into a dress and some heels. Let the event begin!

My roommate and I welcomed guests, did ticket sales at the door and sold mystery prize vouchers to our patrons. We managed to make friends with the wait staff walking around with hor’deourves and had plenty of fun finger foods for our dinner. During the breaks (the guests were watching song and dance performances of the tango and salsa studios) we mingled through the crowd collecting donations and selling more vouchers. The evening finished with dance lessons for the entire group and Maike and I are a part of the first bit, but then have to leave to finish up at our table. The dance instructors saw that we had to leave early, so after the official lesson they gave us a private one on the dance floor—how great! After the lesson we packed up the vehicles and headed home…whew!

Today was definitely worth every second of it. Working for an NGO you never know what your day will look like and as you can see, you get to do a little bit of everything. But, through this, I am able to see all sides of how an NGO is run in one day. I saw the office side where all the preparation happens and the staff meets to discuss the next strategies, I saw the hands on work where the kids are taught and what the organization is all about, and I saw the fundraising events in the more affluent communities that make it possible for the kids to have such classes. If that’s not a full view, then I don’t know what is!

I think it is safe to say that I will sleep well tonight AND tomorrow night after yesterday’s events. Sometimes it’s easy to get bogged down in the every day hum drum of a ‘position’ in a job and it can be hard to see the bigger picture. It’s hard to understand the reasons why some things are the way they are and the policies and procedures that go with them. After seeing everything today, I gained a larger perspective of the ‘whys’ and ‘hows’ of what goes on every day. Instead of getting frustrated with the way things are, I was able to see just what goes into running something of this size and (hopefully) am able to better assist in making the Amy Biehl Foundation a better organization. But for now….to bed…I’m exhausted!

Why Cape Town?

Yesterday I went to a fashion exhibit with one of my old friends here in Cape Town. Upon arrival, my friend quickly said hello to anyone and everyone at the exhibit. (Note: She’s the kind of person who can make friends with a rock so the fact that she knew the vast majority of people here didn’t surprise me) As I was following her around this meet and greet session, I soon realized that not one, not two, but THREE of the people I met that day were past participants of the same program that I was on in 2008. All of their stories were the same….”Well, I just loved Cape Town so much and everything it had to offer so as soon as I graduated, I moved back.” Guess I’m not the only American college student to fall in love with this place J They were all here for different reasons---one was working for a magazine, one just travelling around SA for a year, and the other a micro-finance company.

It got me thinking though….actually, I’ve been thinking about this idea every since I arrived: Why Cape Town?

Why not St. Louis? Or New York? Or India? Or Brazil? Or Idaho? Or some other random place on this beautiful globe? Why am I drawn to Cape Town? Why is it this city, in this country, on this continent? I still have yet to really determine why this place, but I’ll give you a few of the things on my list that I’ve been compiling since my arrival in August.

Maybe it’s because of….

-the dynamic and diversity

-the plethora of cultures (diversity to the extreme)

-1^st world/3^rd world

-mountains/oceans

-city/rural

-black/white/coloured

-shopping malls/markets/stalls

-street cleaner machines/cows and goats

-the needs of the culture are so stark and real

-the excitement of a rebuilding nation—there is so much potential here and I want to be a part of it, the turbulent history marked with unprecedented forgiveness and reconciliation just blows my mind!

-the simply awe of the landscape—Table Mountain with the Atlantic Ocean on one side andthe Indian Ocean on the other side

-the outdoor-ness of the culture (hiking, biking, swimming, surfing, running, etc)

-I can hop on a train and be at the beach in 30 minutes!

-the vibrancy of the township community—their volume (LOUD!) allows me to fit in J

-time isn’t an issue---TIA (This is Africa), things happen on their own time, it’s very laid back here

Or maybe because this place is associated with a high growth period in my life and therefore holds a high significance. Maybe because I am challenged daily to understand a new world and in that new world, I must determine who I am, what I will stand for and how I will spend my time. The possibilities are endless. Not only am I learning about the business world, nonprofit organizations, office culture, but I am learning about the culture of poverty, community development, and fundraising, the challenges and joys of education, mentoring, and so much more. Living with people from all over the world gives me the opportunity to not only learn about South African culture, but that of Denmark, Mexico, Ukraine, and Germany.

Maybe I’m just addicted to learning about new cultures or being challenged beyond my comfort zone, I don’t know. I really don’t know why God drew me to this place, but I do know that he has put a special place in my heart for Cape Town and I would be wrong to ignore it. The only thing I can do now is to live every moment and every day to the fullest. When it comes down to it, it really doesn’t matter where you are in the world or in life, the important thing is to embrace where you are and love those around you with everything you have.

Classroom Chaos

You may remember me saying that the kids in the computer class I was teaching graduated from my course and thus I had to get new students. Cynthia (the Xhosa facilitator) and I moved to a new school last week and began teaching our students computer basics and experimenting with the Paint programs.

This week however, our class was cancelled due to safety reasons. You see, our new class was at a school in a very very crime ridden area and bringing 9 lap tops into that kind of a community was just asking for trouble. Unfortunately, we will have to move our class yet again to a 3^rd school, but this time to a much safer location. I guess it’s a good move in the long run, but I just want to have a group of kids for a set period of time and really be able to pour into them and teach them all I know without the fear of uprooting again. I believe an effective teacher is one who creates a relationship with the students and cultivating relationships takes time and effort. School ends in only a month and half so there isn’t much time left.

Since the computer class was cancelled for the week, I decided to help out with my favorite age group in our Foundations Phase class. Many of the students that come to the after school programs are supposed to be taking care of their younger siblings before their parents get home from work. Instead of staying home, we encourage the kids to bring their siblings and we provide a class for the little ones to participate in.

At John Pama Primary school, the Foundations Phase class has close to 60 kids under the age of 7 every single day. There is one teacher. ONE TEACHER FOR 60 SMALL CHILDREN! Somehow she manages to keep everything relatively in order and actually gets them to learn something while she’s at it. Even after the day is done, she has a smile on her face---she’s incredible.

This Tuesday I showed up to help out again and received a message that the teacher would be a bit late so I should just start off the class with some activities. Pulling from my Blue Frogs Sunday School teaching days, I decided that we should play Duck Duck Goose. Now, most of these kids don’t speak English so explaining the that the ‘it’ person was Goose proved to be quite the challenge and it actually turned out to be duck duck DUCK instead, but they got the idea and we laughed as we chased each other around the court yard.

To buy more time, we moved on to a second game, Red Light Green Light. The kids didn’t really understand this game either so it turned into a mish-mash of Red Light Green Light, Simon Says, and Follow the Leader. So there I was, stomping around the courtyard with a large group of small children mimicking whatever I did. I had them squawking like chickens, hopping like bunnies, strutting like Beyonce, and marching like soldiers. As soon as I spread my arms out and yelled, “Red light!” they all froze in their tracks and giggled like silly little kids.

Thinking that the teacher was soon to arrive, I took the kids into the classroom to sit at their desks (by this time I had about 45 kiddos, all under age 7 mind you). I had them sing the national anthem (what is it about little black children signing in a group?? I just melted!) and then tried to teach them Head and Shoulders Knees and Toes. Kids are great a mimicking so they picked it up quite quickly, but soon became bored with it…..and still no teacher…..

I went to check with the center coordinator to see if the Nosibulelo (the teacher) had an ETA. The response? “Oh she might not make it in time for class today.” Right…she’s not coming at all….I now have close to 60 3-7 year olds in a classroom and their energy is growing by the second….hmmmm….

As soon as I stepped back into the classroom, pandemonium had broken out amongst the children and I was clueless as to how to calm them down. Picture this: deafening noise levels of children running, crying, laughing, screaming, and fighting. One boy is in the corner chewing on a pair of sharp scissors. Two girls are crying because they only have 1 pencil and both want to write on the walls. 4 boys are chasing each other around the room on top of the desks. 2 other boys are trying to draw on a girl’s hair with chalk from the board. 1 boy has found a piece of cardboard in the trash bin and is now running around whipping people with it—a trail of crying children are left behind him. 3 girls are taking all of the books off the shelf and hiding them around the room. 1 boy has managed to climb up to the windows and is precariously positioned on the ledge. 3 more girls are playing house under the teacher’s desk and refuse to move…..And this is only what I can see!

By this point, I had no idea what to do---the kids didn’t speak English, nor did they bother to listen to what I had to say. They couldn’t understand anyways so what was the point? I was doing my best to not be frustrated when 2 of the learners from the HIV/AIDS Peer Education class came to my rescue. With 2 short phrases all of the children quieted down and sat in their desks. (Note to Self: LEARN THESE XHOSA PHRASES!!)

Still figety in their seats, we decided to have them tell stories (still a very common tradition in their culture). One small child would come to the front of the classroom and say a few lines and the rest of the class would repeat a refrain every so often. While I had no idea what they were saying (still all in Xhosa) the kids seemed to keep relatively quiet (relatively is used loosely here, maybe it was more relative to the busy train station than a classroom setting, but either way it was quieter than before).

After my day with the little ones, I have an immense respect for Nosibulelo and her patience and love for these children. It takes a very special person to keep their mind in all that madness and she does it with grace and a smile on her face. One thing’s for sure, she will have a special place in heaven for all her hard work! One other thing is for sure….I need to seriously work on my Xhosa J

10-10-10 10K

This Sunday….10-10-10…..what a fitting day to do something different. I don’t know why we, as humans, feel the need to do something out of the ordinary, epic, or different on dates that happen to line up evenly or mean something special, but we do and this day was no exception. Actually, it was kind of coincidence (some might argue otherwise) that on this day I did something different…something I had never done before. It wasn’t until after I ran my first 10K that I realized the significance and the similarity of the date and the distance I ran.

About a week and a half ago, one of my friends from church decided to tell me that she had signed me up for a 10K run after our short conversation about running. While I do enjoy running, I’ve never 10K before in my life. Imagine my surprise when she said the race was only 9 days away! The only real ‘training’ I was able to do was run one 5K around the commons by my house this week….and I almost died. (not literally, no need to worry here Grandma Mary)

The 10K on 10-10-10 came soon enough and before I knew it, it was 6am and we were up getting ready for the big race. There were 6 of us in total and Mandy (the friend from church) wasn’t about to run in normal clothes—No, we had to make ourselves stand out. I felt like I was back at Kanakuk summer camp as we painted up our calves with arrows and faces with war paint to get us amped for the race. Our luminescent headbands made it easy for us to find each other if we got separated, but the most important part of our running costume was our bright neon tutus. Yep, that’s right, it was a tutu weekend for me! From meeting the great Archbishop himself to donning the ballerina’s staple outfit I certainly had my fair share of the wide spectrum of “tutu.”

I am pleased to report that I finished the race without dying, but I’m pretty sure it had to do with our outfits. When you are wearing something ridiculous like that and everyone is staring at you, you can’t start to walk—you must finish the race running strong! I guess I can’t be upset with Mands—she knew I could do it and just wanted to hit my competitive streak so that I would run in the 2 Oceans marathon with her this March---registration opens on November 1^st…we’ll see about that one…. J

The Day I Baked Cookies for Desmond Tutu

Sometimes, things have a funny way of happening, right? I’m sure you know what I’m talking about—this person talks to that person, who overhears another person’s conversation and before you know it, you’re somewhere you least expect. Well, this week was just one of those weeks….

Instead of boring you with a long story, I’ll get right to the point and tell you why I was up late baking cookies this Thursday. On Tuesday, I found out that through a series of events, I would have the opportunity to meet the one and only Desmond Tutu! Now if you don’t know who he is, you need to stop right now and read the following 2 paragraphs and then read the book No Future Without Forgiveness. If you DO know who he is, you can skip the next 2 paragraphs and read No Future Without Forgiveness again (hint: it’s even better the second time).

“Desmond Mpilo Tutu (born 7 October 1931) is a South African activist and Christian cleric who rose to worldwide fame during the 1980s as an opponent of apartheid. He was the first black South African Anglican Archbishop of Cape Town, South Africa, and primate of the Church of the Province of Southern Africa (now the Anglican Church of Southern Africa).

Tutu has been active in the defence of human rights and uses his high profile to campaign for the oppressed. He has campaigned to fight AIDS, tuberculosis, homophobia, poverty and racism. Tutu received the Nobel Peace Prize in 1984, the Albert Schweitzer Prize for Humanitarianism in 1986, the Ghandi Peace Prize in 2005, the Presidential Medal of Freedom in 2009 and was inducted into the Golden Key International Honour Society as an Honorary Member in 2001, by the University of Stellenbosch. Tutu has also compiled several books of his speeches and sayings.”

Taken from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Desmond_Tutu (click the link for more)

Nobel Peace Prize laureate has been a voice of principle, an unrelenting champion of justice and a dedicated peacemaker. Tutu played a pivotal role in South Africa's struggle against apartheid, the now-abolished system of white-minority rule. He was chairman of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission which practiced restorative justice for the heinous crimes committed during the apartheid era. It has been said that without such a commission, South Africa would still be festering in the open wounds of its horrible past.

Ok, now that you know a bit about Desmond Tutu, I hope you can begin to feel the excitement, nervousness, joy, honor, etc that I was feeling all week long. Tutu announced in July that he was officially retiring and stepping down from the public eye after his birthday (7 October). Turning 79 and constantly being on the road will eventually catch up to you and in his retirement announcement speech he stated that he just wanted to sit and home and drink rooibos tea with his wife and watch cricket. How cute! In order to begin the ‘winding down’ of his career, he decided to be a professor on the Semester at Sea ‘study abroad’ ship. Cape Town is one of the stops and he was only home for 10 days before moving on to the next port in India.

Anyways, (sorry this is turning into a longer story than I thought) one of my co-workers is actually good friends with this astounding man and was going to breakfast with him on Friday and asked me if I would like to come along. Of course I said yes, even if it meant waking up at 5.30am and finding my way to town! Thursday being his birthday, I wanted to get him a gift and card—nothing huge, but what in the world do you buy for someone like Desmond Tutu??? I wanted it to be personal, but not too obscure. After doing some thinking, I decided cookies were a suitable gift. Everyone enjoys a good cookie and it wasn’t too over the top. As I was making them, I couldn’t help but think….”oh my goodness, I’m making chocolate chip cookies for Desmond Tutu….FOR DESMOND TUTU!!” Eish, life is funny, eh?

Thursday night was spent with little sleep as I pondered what I would say, how I would act, etc. I didn’t want to go the Barbara Walters route and ask him his views on things happening in the world today, but I did have so many things I wanted to pick his brain about. I didn’t want to be all paparazzi either—ya know, please can we take 3 photos and will you sign my 10 copies of No Future Without Forgiveness? I finally settled on 2 questions and tried to get some sleep.

Bright and early I headed out to St. Georges Cathedral to meet up with my co-worker and eventually Tutu. The emeritus archbishop was giving an early morning service and I was fortunate enough to catch the end of it and take communion with him and the rest of those present (about 50). After the service, Desmond walked right up to my co-worker and said, “Faizel! Good to see you, are we still on for later??” I tried not to let my jaw drop as this cute little bald bishop giggled his way through the crowd, graciously greeting everyone, taking pictures, and signing books. Kind of a shame that people brought books to sign to a church service, but what can you do?

Unfortunately, the service and his own little meet and greet took so long that we barely had time to have breakfast with the man. And by barely, I mean, he sat with us for 5, maybe 10, minutes. Those 10 minutes were incredible though. I gave him the cookies and wished him a happy birthday and he just giggled and said, “ooo! I love chocolate!” (Apparently, he usually orders a chocolate milkshake and then right afterwards, a hot chocolate, ha!) We talked a bit about retirement and how he was looking forward to sitting at home with his wife and whether or not he would actually be able to slow down. Ya know, just normal small talk conversation. And before I knew it, our small little meeting was over and he had to go and move on to another appointment.

The whole thing was all pretty surreal actually….I walked away thinking, “Oh my gosh, I just had a small conversation with someone so influential in the course of history for so many South Africans. Wait, I just gave him cookies for his birthday…oh man…is this real life?” It was so nice to know that this man who has achieved so much is just like you and me—he loves his chocolate and he loves to laugh. After everything he has been through, he is still as gracious as ever and when he looks you in the eye and says, “Pleased to meet you,” you can tell that he genuinely is pleased to know your name.

Maybe I will email him next week and ask him how he liked the cookies….apparently he responds quite quickly to his emails now that he has his very own iPad… J

On a Lighter Note...

Please excuse the potty talk, but we ran out of toilet paper this week and my new roommate decided to buy the next round of supplies. With all of the craziness going on here now, I just had to laugh when I discovered that our roll was decorated with these playful friends. There something comical and almost creepy about these little guys dancing and playing with beach balls on such a toiletry. Oh Cape Town....you never cease to amaze me....

Stay tuned for more "Cape Town Culture" moments as I take my camera around to all of the signs I see on a daily basis. What do zebras, Nelly, Obama, condoms, hair cuts, and Indian food have in common? You'll just have to wait to find out! :)

Mondays Can Be Rough

Ever had a tough Monday? Ya know, the kind where the joys of the weekend are over and now its back to reality, back to the daily grind of work and everyday life. Today was no exception to this ‘case of the Mondays’ for me. I guess the first world/third world conflict just slapped me in the face once again more than anything. You see, Monday is trash pick-up day on my street and so naturally, everyone puts out their trash bins for collection. The difference between the suburbs of America and the suburbs of Cape Town is that every house and yard on these streets is surrounded by a thick wall and heavy duty security system. Most of the walls have electrical wire or broken glass on the top to prevent burglary and theft (both common occurrences). Not the most inviting and neighborly way to do life, right?

Anyways, back to trash day…

When the bins come to the streets, so do the homeless. Every single Monday there are about 7 people on my short walk to the train station who are digging through the trash bins hoping to find something to eat. Did you read that? Digging through trash bins looking for something to fill their aching empty bellies. Think of how nasty your trash bags are and the gross food that you put in them……now think of being so hungry that you will mush your hands through the rubbish to find just a morsel of food to eat….

Every single Monday these guys are here and every single Monday they are hungry. It breaks my heart to know that I will see them again and they will still be empty. I don’t know their stories, I don’t know why they are homeless—whether it is simply because they cannot find a job, don’t possess skills or any sort of education, aren’t proactive in bettering themselves, or are just content to live in such conditions—I just don’t know. But I do know that the stark reality of homelessness and hunger pervades even the suburbs. This place may seem like a paradise on most days, but let us not forget about the brokenness of this world.

In many ways, we are all broken and hungry. Maybe we have enough food to eat, but we are hungry for attention. Hungry for acceptance, for love, for trust, for community, for fellowship, for that next job, for that new car….whatever it may be, we all have a longing in our hearts. Let us not forget those less fortunate than us, let us remember that we all are hungry in some way; that the homeless person on the street may not be that different from us at all…

The Importance of Education--Random Thoughts

Today I attended the launch event of the EDCOSA (The Educational Coalition of South Africa). The Amy Biehl Foundation is a large stake holder in this new coalition and thus I was there to represent the Foundation and work our informational table. EDCOSA’s vision is to create “A South Africa—where all our people have access to education, empowerment and economy through sustainable, frugal and resource-based commitment to the ‘haves’ to poverty alleviation and social inclusivity.’ No small task right??

If you know anything about the educational situation in South Africa, you will know that there are large discrepancies between township schools and those in the suburbs. No school books, cracked windows to the outside, backs missing off of chairs, dirty floors, no paper, broken light bulbs, teachers not showing up for work, children unable to attend because they must tend to ‘their’ children, drugs, alcohol, gangsterism---these are all factors which prevent suitable education in such communities.

On a world scale, South African banks are rated 6^th of 139, yet the educational system is rated 130/139 in the townships. Remember my post about the 1^st world/3^rd world dilemma? There you have it yet again. 10% of the community in Cape Town holds the majority of the wealth, while 90% of the people live in poverty-striken township communities like Khayelitsha. This coalition strives to lessen the gap between the rich and the poor and take advantage of the priveleges of the 1^st world to instill proper educational values in the 3^rd world. Needless to say, this event got me thinking about the value of education. A few quotes from keynote speakers are as follows….

“If we don’t invest our monies in schools and education, we will eventually spend it on the prisons and correctional facilities.”

“It doesn’t matter what is in the curriculum if our lives pose a contradiction to the values we teach and say—children learn values through how we behave, no what we say.”

In thinking about the importance of education and community development, I was brought back to an incident that happened just last week. My computer class was going to have our graduation ceremony, but we had to wait for the Xhosa instructor to come with our refreshments. Instead of playing a large group game, I decided to split the classroom up into smaller groups and give them topics to discuss. I was blown away at the topic of role models that I had with my grade 7 boys. Rap and hip hop artists are typical role models for these kids (this wasn’t the shocker), what made my heart break was how much they knew about their prison records, how they treated women, and how much of which drugs they had done. I then asked the kids about Chris Brown and his abuse with Rhiana and they all responded that she deserved it because she was cheating. I followed with questions about whether it was right or wrong to hit a woman and they all very eagerly agreed that if she was doing something wrong, then it was okay…..there I was---right in the middle of a community where physical abuse begins well before 15 and it is simply the norm.

Education then doesn’t just come out of schools and institutions, although it is necessary to have formal establishments. Education starts in the home, because it is a form of investment. Education is about investing in the lives of those around us, being intentional with relationships and real with the people we come in contact with. One of the speakers talked about the importance of mentorship and investing in others: There are over 8 million people classified as ‘priveleged’ in South Africa. What if each one of them took just one person that was less privileged than themselves a mentored them? It doesn’t have to cost you money, but it will cost you time and intellectual capacity. If you are a product of apartheid, you have benefitted by being trained to have such intellectual capacity—use it!

So then what?? How do we harness what we’ve been given—the privilege of a good education and use it to better those less fortunate than ourselves? It doesn’t have to be in a proper school setting either—education can happen anywhere. It would be a shame to harbor the good education that I’ve been given. I may not be trained to be a math or science teacher, but I’ve learned things in my life that can help others. Everyone does. Don’t think that you can’t make a difference—you can. Just think of all the people in your life that have made an impact that you never have told what they did for you. You are an example to educate those around you.

I’ll finish with a quote from a girl who grew up in Khayelitsha (Cape Town township) and now successfully runs 3 businesses,

“It doesn’t matter what poverty you grow up in, education can set you free. The children are watching, what will you do?