Now I have a strong aversion to this word. Granted, I have never been poor, in a financial way, so maybe it is wrong for me to say that. But I have had experiences with people that the world declares "poor" and have found that while they may be "poor" financially, they are rich in infinite ways. I wanted my Chicago students to understand that while their families may be struggling, they have so many great things to still be grateful for!
During International Week our grade was assigned Africa (woohoo!) and I chose Uganda for our classroom to study and present on (of course). I planned an activity for each day that week, starting Monday morning with a powerpoint presentation of all of my photographs. Here's how some of our conversation went:
Student: These kids look very, very, very poor. And dirty with no shoes. It is so sad, I would not want to live in Uganda.
Student: Why don't they have a kitchen or TV? Do they drive cars and have cellphones?
Me: Yes, where I visited they did have kitchens and cars and cellphones, they just look a little different than ours do. They didn't have TVs in their homes, but if you go into the city a lot of restaurants and hotels had TVs. I bet a lot of families in those cities have TVs too.
Student: So these were just the really poor people?
Me: What do you mean by poor?
Student: That they have no food and no clothes.
Me: Ah, but don't you see in the pictures? They are wearing clothes and we are cooking food. Don't they look healthy and happy?
Student: Yes, but they look different. Not like us.
Me: Well we are different! You are Mexican and I am German, and we live in America. This little girl is Rwandan and she lives in Uganda. You see? We are all different a little bit.
Student: Yes, she is black like me. They are all black. Some really dark.
Me: Exactly! And do you think maybe we are also very similiar?
Student: No because we have more and we go to a good school and play Wii and use computers and have a lot more money.
Me: Hmmmmm. I think you are very similar to these kids. What are some of your favorite things?
Random students: Pasta! Soccer! Football! Ice cream! Swimming! Basketball! Reading! My friends!
Me: O wow! You are very, very similiar you see. The children in Uganda LOVE to play soccer. They can even play without shoes! It is so hard to do, they are so talented! They can juggle the ball between their feet and never let it touch the ground. They can even build their own soccer balls when they can't find one, out of clothing and things they find.
Student: That's recycling! We recycle!
Me: Exactly! And you know what? The kids in Uganda LOVE food too. They eat noddles and rice and corn and pineapple and bananas and meat and chicken and desserts too. We made homemade donuts when I was there with chocolate and sugar, and we made popcorn on a fire. They taught me a lot about food and growing healthy, natural produce in gardens.
Student: So then we do all the same stuff. They go to school and have uniforms. They are singing and dancing like we do when we play the radio. I mean, they are exactly the same as us. They have to brush their teeth and do homework and stuff and they have friends and families exactly like us.
Me: Exactly! Now do you see? People all around the world are a little bit different and do some things differently, but really when we look very closely, we are all very similar.
Student: We are all people no matter what.
*tears welling in my eyes* holy breakthrough*
Student: I would love to go to Uganda now. They have more than we do. They have better animals and their land is prettier. We can't go hiking and do gardening here. Maybe I can teach them Wii and they can teach me dancing.
Student: Can we write letters to them to become friends? I want to learn their language. It's so much cooler than ours.
On Tuesday we started drafting letters to send to 5th graders at New Times School in Kishanje. For months I had been fighting these kids to write just a page for their assignments and now they were turning in 5-6 page letters! The teacher in me was so proud of this breakthrough with their writing, revising, and editing. In the letters the kids entrusted very valuable information to their new friends. I could tell that this was a cathartic and precious moment for my kids. They had a pen pal they could truly confide in. The letters that returned three months later made me cry. Here's an example:
"Hello dear American friend! I joyously greet you in the name of God! That he has made a true miracle by sending this new friend to me. I have dreamed many years about America. How is it there? I want to tell you that my family also is not a mum and dad. It is my eldest sister and our little cousins who live here. We share a hut with my neighbor who I also call uncle. You see? It is who we love that make our family. Is it like that also in America?"
*More tears*
On Wednesday we did African crafts. We made dolls, necklaces, and basket weaving. At this point the kids are absolutely in love with Uganda, speaking Rukiga phrases and carrying their textbooks around on their heads.
On Thursday we talked about diversity. My favorite topic. Duljo once again wrapped up this lesson in the most perfect way, as he does (he's my golden heart thinker):
"No matter what color your hands are all over the world, they do all the same things."
And so it only seemed natural for all of us to create a banner for the hallway that said that. Each student picked a different color for their hand print. When they dried we wrote all of our unique qualities inside our hands. What was left was a beautiful masterpiece of diversity.
On Friday we preformed our Rukiga dance for the school. After the dance ended my students came up to me and begged to learn about all the countries in the world. "We can write letters to kids everywhere!" they begged. Now that is teaching global education.
So now is the question. What does it mean to be poor? Different? Outcast? Labeled hopeless? How does that affect the way our world operates? These ways that different cultures see each other? They can't drive. They smell bad. They are lazy. They are mean. They have a bad religion. They have different hair. They wear weird clothes. They are illegal. What if we just always said, "They are people, just like me?"
Too idealistic? Too bad, I have bigger dreams for the future generations of our world.
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