By Abby Deming
Contributing columnist
My face is wet, and it’s not because it’s 100 degrees outside. I find myself in a daze while preparing to leave a place that has transformed my heart and my philosophy for teaching. I just said goodbye to a sweet, sweet boy who tugged at my heartstrings this week, and I had to explain to him that while we may be oceans apart, we will always be connected on a heart level. He asked me if I was coming back soon, and I didn’t know how to answer.
Everything within me wanted to say: Yes, of course I’ll be back! But I don’t know for sure if this opportunity will ever arise again. As I walked down the steps of the orphanage for the last time, I saw him sitting in the corner trembling as he cried and watched us leave. That’s when I realized that I was crying so hard I couldn’t see straight. My vision was blinded by the emotions that I had poured into this place, and I felt as though I was leaving a piece of my heart in a land that needed more than I could offer.
I was blessed to have the opportunity to join Cal State Fullerton’s Special Education Department Chair Melinda Pierson on a short-term study-abroad trip with a select group of phenomenal educators, each with a passion for kids and the betterment of the future.
We stayed in Port-au-Prince, Haiti, and worked at the Maison Des Enfants De Dieu Orphanage with more than 75 awesome kiddos. We partnered with the Haitian teachers to implement classroom management techniques that would allow the students to flourish in their education, despite the poverty that engulfs them. We co-taught classes in English, French and Creole and brought in crazy amounts of supplies that would allow teachers to use multimodal methods to teach every day.
How do loving and teaching children for a week make a difference in a country where the average person earns a dollar a day? How do singing songs and playing silly games change a broken nation? I’m not quite sure of the answer, but I do know one thing: Breathing life into a lifeless nation is not something that can be defined as futile. Showing children their worth empowers them to be a part of a better future — one where they can be whatever they dream they can be. Who knows if teaching them for a week opened a door that they didn’t know existed, let alone a door that is attainable for them. Showing these kids the power of a dream, coupled with encouraging and spending time with them, may not have transformed their lives, but it sure as heck changed mine.
People often say that a smile is universal, but what they don’t say is that the reasons behind the smile are more powerful than anything else. You’ve heard the phrase “first-world problems,” but few ever talk about “fourth-world problems,” as that opens the door to acknowledging the fact that we are kings and queens in comparison with many parts of the world.
It’s a humbling experience to step off a plane into a nation that has so little, yet be surrounded by smiles — ones that are unhindered by extreme poverty, no clean drinking water and no family members. Still, the Haitian people, especially the children, are joyful. They sing songs of praise each day and are never consumed with what they don’t have, but rather they are thankful for every day that God gives them.
What would our world look like if we responded to life like Haitian children do? Would we complain when our Wi-Fi is down? Would we be frustrated when too many people are on the same Netflix account, so we can’t watch? Would children complain about their homework? I’d like to think no. If the world took on the mindset that we are extremely privileged to live in a society that accepts one another, grows together and prospers because of shared passion, the world would be a better place for the generations to come.
This isn’t to say that we are not burdened by the problems facing our nation, or that the way people feel is invalid, but the root behind our feelings and the way that we react to embrace the future is something that we can change.
So, what do we do? The answer is that those of us who have experienced life-changing things like we did on this journey can use our voices to spread the word about places that seem unreachable. With that and a little bit of espwa (hope), the next generation can succeed in loving those who seem beyond our reach.
Abby Deming graduated from Cal State Fullerton in May with a B.A. in liberal studies and earned a teaching credential with an emphasis in moderate/severe special education. She has taught abroad before, yet after returning home this time, she sponsored a child from the orphanage. In the fall, she will begin teaching at Andrews Elementary in Whittier.
