Sentimentalization.

Recently read and really appreciated Jonathan Kozol's Savage Inequalities. This quote, from a Chicago minister working with inner-city kids in the early 1990s, really connected with some of my own recent reflections about life and teaching.

There are good people in this neighborhood, determined and persistent and strong-minded people who have character and virtues you do not see everywhere. You say to yourself, 'There's something here that's being purified by pain.' All the veneers, all the facades, are burnt away and you see something genuine and beautiful that isn't often found among the affluent. I see it in children--in the youngest children sometimes. Beautiful sweet natures. It's as if they are refined by their adversity. But you cannot sentimentalize. The odds they face are hellish, and, for many, many people that I know, life here is simply unendurable. --Rev. Jim Wolff (pp. 42-43).

This one's for Facebook folks.

So, after being tagged multiple times, I've finally written the "25 random things about myself" that people seem so curious to read. I'll post it on facebook also...

1. I regularly cross the equator by public road transport.
2. I have an unappreciable skill at hosting tropical parasites (though I'm healthy right now).
3. My eyes frequently change colour, switching and mixing shades of brown, grey, and green.
4. I enjoy learning new languages and seem to have some skill at it.
5. My most recent favourite authors are Barbara Kingsolver, Jodi Picoult, and Ishmael Reed.
6. I sometimes have poetic spells, where my mind naturally thinks in verse (which can be quite annoying at times).
7. I look forward to and greatly appreciate the rare times I get to bake in an oven.
8. I can communicate on a basic conversational level in Luganda, the Bantu dialect spoken in the Buganda region of central Uganda.
9. My commitment to hydration has gotten me labeled a "drunkard" more than once.
10. There is an MCAT review book on the floor beside my bed.
11. I can analyse poetry academically if required to, but I generally appreciate it for simply "the way it sounds."
12. I am somehow quite picky about my journals and the pens I use to write in them, though this has decreased in recent months.
13. I really like eating fried ants and fried grasshoppers as snacks during the rainy season (and yes, I know how to prepare them).
14. My decisions sometimes seem spontaneous, but I really tend to deliberate about them for an extended period of time.
15. I made homemade chips (french fries), chocolate fondue, and guacamole for the first time while hanging out at a friend's apartment last month in western Uganda (and also ate guacamole for the first time).
16. I currently have 5 names, and use different pairs of them to introduce myself to different people, but these days, I am most often referred to as "Auntie Christine Nakaweesi."
17. I've learned to count it as a compliment when people tell me how wonderfully "fat" I am.
18. Once I make a decision, I stop asking "what if..." questions and simply "live into it."
19. My regular planning calendar is hand-drawn on brightly coloured papers.
20. As a child, I periodically contemplated becoming any or all of the following: an author, a children's illustrator, an orphanage director, a farmer, a teacher, a mad scientist, a pioneer, and a hermit.
21. My Ugandan English has reached the point where I unknowingly shift "l" for "r".
22. The sight of my (longish) blonde hair in the mirror sometimes shocks me.
23. I am generally assumed to be at least in my mid-30s.
24. I learn best by seeing and writing. Don't trust me to remember something you tell or teach me if I only hear it.
25. I belong to the ente (cow) clan, so I am not allowed to eat frogs.

People aren't usually so honest about their stereotypes.

Last night, as I was making plans to come to Masaka Town this morning, I walked to the centre of Bukoto Town (a dirt crossroads with a butcher stand and some other small shoppes) to look for Benard, my regular boda driver. He wasn't around, but the other boda guys called me over. The following conversation ensued...

Boda guys: Nakaweesi, jangu. (Nakaweesi, come.)
Me, walking over: Wanji? (Yes, please?)
Boda guys: Olaga wa? (Where are you going?)
Me: Te wali. (Nothing/nowhere.)
Me: Benard ali wano? (Is Benard here?)
Boda guys: Tali wo. Agenze Masaka. (He's not here. He has gone to Masaka [today].\0
Boda guys: Oyagala Benard? (You want Benard?)
Me: Njagala kugenda Masaka enkya kumakya. (I want to go to Masaka tomorrow in the morning.)
Boda, one whom I recognise, but don't actually know: Ezo saawa ameka? (At what time?)
Me: Ezo saawa bbiri. (At two [8:00am].)
Me: Ogenda kutwala? (Are you going to take me?)
Boda: Yee. (Yes.)
Me: Oyagala senti ameka? (How much money do you want?)
Boda: Nja kujja wa ka? Ogenda kujja wano? (Will I come to your house? Are you going to come here?)
Me: Ngenda kujja wano. (I am going to come here.)
Boda: Enkumi taano. (Five thousand [shillings].)
Me: Enkumi taano?! Nedda! (Five thousand?! I don't accept!)

I started to walk away. The other boda guys were all laughing; they knew as well as I did that he had quoted a very high price. My indignation was as much a part of the bargaining process as his outrageous quote.

Boda: Jangu. Oyagala kuwa senti ameka? (Come. You want to give how much money?)
Me: Enkumi saatu. (Three thousand [the normal boda price to Town].)
Boda: Teka wali lukumi. (You add there one thousand.)
Me: Enkumi nya? (Four thousand?)
Boda: Yee. (Yes.)
Me: Nedda. Enkumi saatu. (I don't accept. Three thousand.)

We went back and forth a bit between these two numbers, mine being the normal price, his being the one they quote during holidays and when there is a severe petrol shortage. The other bodas and villagers were amused at my arguing in Luganda, but seemed to agree that I should pay 4,000 shillings. Eventually, it came to this,

Boda: Bampeya enkumi nya. Oli mzungu. Oyina senti. (Give me four thousand. You are a white person. You have money.)
Me: Nedda. Siyina senti ninji. (No. I don't have a lot of money.)
Boda: Olimba. Oyina. (You are deceiving. You have.)
Me: Silimba. Siyina senti ninji. (I am not deceiving. I don't have a lot of money.)

With my still-limited Luganda, I failed to communicate the whole concept that I actually don't get paid to work here. I eventually agreed to come in the morning, but we continued to argue about the cost even as I walked away back toward my house...

On the one hand, he's right. I could afford to pay an extra $0.50 USD for transport into town.

But on the other hand, I hate to perpetuate and/or consistently have to confront the stereotypical association between my skin colour and my assumed financial status.

Oh, but it was fun to negotiation this argument in Luganda.

The post-script: this boda guy wasn't around when I walked up the road this morning. Another guy I know, Mugenyi, ended up driving me into Town.

And I paid 3,000 shillings without any additional negotiation.

"Auntie, first wait, I have your ebbaluwo."

I was utterly confused when one of my P.4 students told me that she had my "ebbaluwo" (sp?). As I understand it, this word can mean "letter" or "envelope," neither of which I had given her. I tried to ask, but then she got confused and went running back into her classroom to bring me the mentioned object. Under the admonishment of other P.4 members, I waited. She came running back out waving a dirty and oft-folded envelope with the inscription "TO AUNT CHRISTINA" written under the crossed-out name of the previous recipient. I read the name even as she told me who gave it to her, "Nagaddya Phiona," a student who sat for her PLE last October and who had lived at the same home as the one who had just brought me the envelope.

This is the second letter I've gotten from the group who has now left for secondary school, and I've decided to let you share in my delight and amusement at seeing them put to actual use one of the skills we emphasise in English Composition lessons. [Just so you know, she mis-wrote the address, so don't try to send me mail at this one]. I've done my best to maintain the spelling, and punctuation, but blogspot is not cooperating with the formatting.

As you read, remember that this is a student who has finished essentially the equivalent of an American middle school education, who knows English as a second language, and who is approximately 13 years old.

-----------------------------------------------------

ST JUDE JUNIOUR,

P.O. Box 1982,

MASAKA UGANDA,

12th/02/08.

Dear AUNT CRISTINA,

How are you now days?

I think it is good.

I have written this letter to imform you that I thank you for what you taught me in English. I did wel in English. I did 6 in It now Iam going in a Secondary school. May the living God bless you. Good bye Aunt.

Your loving friend NAGADDYA PHIONA.

There was general cheering and applause...

...when I told Primary 6 members that after studying words and grammar related to debating, we were going to make our own "P.6 class only" debate.

We started making plans that same day. After discussing the real meaning of "proposing" and "opposing" points (they confuse these terms more frequently than you would guess) and learning to express "opinions" on various issues, I sent them home (or back to their dorms) with an assignment to list possible motions for our debate. For once, almost all of them completed their homework assignment!

The next day, we carried out a democratic vote to determine our motion, as well as to choose who would act as Timekeeper and Secretary. An almost unanimous decision chose "Town Life Is Better than Village Life," which I allowed even though they made the same debate last term, though I used my administrative dictatorship powers to rephrase it as "Village Life Is Better than Town Life." The efficacy of our voting process came under question when the election of our Timekeeper netted over 40 votes from our class of 32 members. This led to a short discussion of electoral policies, corruption, and different possibilities for what we should do. I again exercised my dictatorship by retaining to myself the power to determine the Chairperson, although I did not yet assign the role. Homework assignment: write 2 points proposing the motion and 2 points opposing it (I hadn't yet assigned them to a side). Again, I was shocked at how many of my students actually completed their homework, though a fair number still confused "proposing" for "opposing."

An opinion drill to help students differentiate between "proposing" and "opposing" ended with all of the boys "proposing" and all of the girls "opposing" my statement that "Girls are more clever than boys." Obviously, we still have work to do on the whole P/O thing. As a class, we practised the letter writing skills we began learning last term in P.5 to draft a letter inviting certain of the other teachers to be "Judges" for the debate, but ran out of time before we wrote any clean copies. No homework this time.

And then, P.6 members missed one of my classes to dig in the garden, and I spent a few days in Kampala because I was sick (again!). The day that I came back to school was the day that we had scheduled for the debate...

We hadn't gotten a chance to write the official letters to the "Judges." I hadn't yet assigned proposing and opposing sides or chosen the Chairperson. We hadn't yet written an official invitation calling P.5 members to watch our debate. I hadn't informed other teachers that this debate might affect the schedule a bit (i.e. it might take longer than the 60 minutes scheduled for my lesson that morning). Did any of this stop us from making the debate?

Nope. Half the staff was away that morning to visit another school, and I was sent to "occupy" P.6 for a few hours, so logistically, it worked out great. We cancelled the plan for judges. I had them draw "proposer" or "opposer" out of a cup (I stuck "Chairperson" in too, which greatly surprised the boy who pulled it out). We spent an hour writing and editing points, first individually and then in groups, mostly without my help, though I did keep emphasising that I would tell the Secretary not to record any points which failed to include examples or reasons. The Secretary, Timekeeper, and Chairperson were assigned to determine the order of speakers (which the Chairperson forgot to follow) and to decide how many minutes each person would be allowed (I over-ruled their "5 minutes" decision in favour of "2 1/2 minutes" so we could finish before lunch) and how many interrupting questions would be allowed per speaker ("2"). After breakfast, I wrote an invitation on the blackboard in the P.5 classroom and we organised the desks. To the great disappointment of some P.7 members who had gotten wind of what was happening, I refused to allow them to participate in the debate. I posted "Rules of Order" on the blackboard, threatened to send P.5ers to dig if they were disruptive or loud, and promised to bring sweets to the winning team.

And so, on Friday, 20th February, we made our debate. Here are the points presented by either side, as recorded by the Secretary, and with my explanation.

MOTION: Village Life Is Better than Town Life.

Proposing Points:

1. Food. Villagers have more food, spend less for food, and eat more variety of food.
2. Ship leader. "Cheap labour." When you do need someone to work for you, you don't have to pay them in money, or you don't have to pay them a lot.
3. Balanced diet. Particularly for school children, who supplement the school diet of posho and beans with fruit, vegetables, groundnuts (peanuts), sweet potatoes, and sometimes matooke. And, all of this food is grown in your own gardens or purchased for very small amounts of money compared to that spent in Towns.
4. Vitamins. From the fruits and vegetables you get to eat.
5. Using things without money. Most activities or work in the village don't require cash.
6. Free transport. With your feet or in the back of someone's pickup. As opposed to taxis that always charge a fee.
7. To get money after working. You can sell the extra food, beans, groundnuts, fruits, or vegetables that you dig in your garden (to those folks who live in Town) for income .
8. Free road accidents. Less traffic means fewer accidents.
9. There is no communicable disease. Cholera tends to be an issue in more crowded areas.
10. Vegetables. Yes, children consider it a privilege to eat vegetables. Children in Town, who are assumed to be more likely to attend boarding schools, don't get to eat as many vegetables.
11. More houses. There is more land available for building new houses, so people aren't so crowded.
12. Hygiene. People keep better hygiene in the village because they don't have to buy water.
13. Descpline. "Discipline." Children learn to greet and respect elders because they meet them while walking to school. Children are more likely to be day schoolers, so they have to learn time management.
14. Learning about catching. "Learning about culture." Again, as day schoolers, children spend more time at home with their elders and thus spend more time immersed in local and traditional culture than those in Town.
15. Children lear how t work. "Children learn how to work." Traditional practical tasks are learnt in the villages that would not be as important in Town. E.g. digging, fetching water, cooking, caring for animals, caring for younger children, etc. These tasks are learnt not only at home, but also at school.
16. Learning for digging. Village children spend a lot more time in the gardens than Town children. Town children or boarders might dig while at home for the holidays. Children, particularly day schoolers, who attend school in the village dig after school, on the weekend, and sometimes, during the school day (in the school garden).

Opposing Points:

1. Good schools. Town schools are generally perceived as better than village schools. They tend to have nicer facilities, more resources, higher-trained staff, better exam scores, stronger reputations, etc., in large part because they charge higher school fees.
2. Many jobs. More people means more service jobs, more commercial jobs, etc.
3. Good hospitals. Urban hospitals have better facilities, the option of laboratory testing, higher-trained staff, and better treatments.
4. Many buildings. There are more buildings, and in a closer area, than in the villages. A good sign of development and progress.
5. Good transport. You might have to pay for it, but you have a lot more options than just footing. E.g. buses, taxis, coasters, bodas.
6. Good hotels. There just aren't so many hotels (for sleeping or eating at) in the villages.
7. Many industries. As opposed to the single coffee factory in the village area where we live.
8. Fire extinguishers. (I spelled it for her). Apparently, these come standard issue in the dormitories of Town boarding schools. News to me.
9. Super markets. There is a lot more variety (and lower prices) of consumer goods in Town shoppes.
10. Places to tool. "Places to tour." Museums and zoos and such are Town attractions. And game parks, although in rural areas, are more likely to be visited by Town schools.
11. Starding. To be honest, I have no memory of what this one was supposed to mean.

In the end, the proposers won. But I brought (American) sweets to the whole class.

A New School Year

"As good teachers weave the fabric that joins them with students and subjects,
the heart is the loom on which the threads are tied,
the tension is held, the shuttle flies,
and the fabric is stretched tight.
Small wonder, then, that teaching tugs at the heart, opens the heart,
even breaks the heart--
and the more one loves teaching,
the more heartbreaking it can be.
The courage to teach is the courage to keep one's heart open in those very moments
when the heart is asked to hold more than it is able
so that teacher and students and subject
can be woven into the fabric of community that learning,
and living,
require."
--Parker Palmer--