Up High, Down Low, Too Slow

Up high. Love doesn’t occur in a moment. Some love needs to be developed, but all love lasts eternally. A moment has the power to form this lasting love. Two weeks ago I stepped into a classroom and despite all the preparation for the past 6 months I was mentally unprepared for the events that were about to unfold. Everyday with these kids has been a blessing and I feel privileged to have been their teacher every step of the way. Since the first day their lives have become intertwined in my own. Names that seemed so foreign now roll off of my tongue like that of a sister or brother. And they are family- a family who I chose but love all the same.  Doing this work I am left with treasures- Salsabbil’s smiles, Taha’s laugh, Fadewa’s tender heart, Selma’s diligence, and countless other memories. This is what inspires me and has given me the drive to pour out my soul across the world.  The reward I get seeing their progress is worth each bead of sweat, the late nights, and every ounce of effort. Education is the foundation to opportunity and to help develop this core in my students is an honor. It excites me to see how far CGA has already helped Abdasalam Saya School and how much more it will aid them in the future.

Down low. It started on a roof top. With a band, candy, and music. Then of course there was dancing. With every twirl drawing us closer to the kids another feeling drew my mind away. This was it. There is no tomorrow. Every instant became the last time. And suddenly it was over. They walked down a flight of stairs and out of my life. This new normal that I had grown accustomed to is no longer. Soon the summer cycle will be in full swing and this trip will be nothing but a memory. But this memory is ingrained in me. This journey changed me. Not a change that fades- but one that stays alive. This trip has taught me about the purpose of defiance. No opinion can be trusted until you have formed your own. “The truth” isn’t always true. No version is the same. So trust your own opinion as long as it is educated. A culture isn’t defined by one person, but one person can defy a culture. This person has the power to stigmatize or revolutionize it. My challenge to you is to not follow the common belief about the Muslim culture. The next time you hear a comment don’t help cultivate it. Don’t be the person that wishes to make a change- instead do it. It doesn’t have to be extraordinary it can be a simple act that becomes an ordinary one throughout the culture.

Too slow. I would give anything to relive this trip. It went by in an instant. The first day seems as though it was yesterday, but today we took our last steps in the school. When the 6 hour days of teaching last week seemed to go buy in minutes the 4 hour days this week occurred in a flash. The English the kids know now versus what they used to is incomparable yet it all occurred within 10 days of teaching. Tasks that were milestones now are small bumps in the road after a long journey. From stuttering through introductions to rolling through dialogues the growth is remarkable. Each student was distinct. All of them had their own strengths, weaknesses, and personalities. But all of them were united. They never complained, and were driven by their desire to learn English. English is the key to them; a key to a world of opportunity that puts them ahead. I was handed this key, and it is therefore my responsibility to help hand out as many keys so that they may be given the same opportunities for we are all one. And as one we may fall or rise.

Simply Human

Above me were a million stars and below millions of grains of sands. The vastness of the Sahara displayed my own insignificance. Out of the 7 billion people in the world I am one. So how can I change it? By impacting as many lives as possible. I have touched hearts in Cambodia, Tanzania, and Morocco- but to continue this journey I need to touch more and dig deeper. Continuing to travel- exposing myself to new cultures, challenging my current beliefs, and pushing myself are the first requirements. There have been many bonds formed, but to keep them alive these relationships must be nurtured. I challenge myself to do this throughout the future- to not only expand but to grow. However beautiful the flowers are on a tree it is the roots that give it strength. So I need to travel back to the places where I planted seeds of my heart, and help these bonds grow throughout my life. To rekindle flames into a roaring fire that will never die. I refuse to let these trips just be a memory of what used to be. This however, is only half the battle. The rest has the power to shape the world. As I see new cultures, meet new people a battle can be won at home- not across the world. If I change but no one else does what is the point? Sharing your enlightenment is necessary in order for the world to change. The world can change one person, but how can you change the world? This battle is won by sharing your story- helping alter the perception of a culture rather than just a life.

            It took a 12 year old to change my outlook. Sitting in her living space Ghita taught us about her culture. Ghita is hardworking and a leader in her class putting her ahead and making her one of the most intelligent members in her family. And her family decided to envy this 12 year old girl. Ghita is forced to abide to rules her younger brother is not and encouraged to not attend summer course so her cousins catch up. She is blissfully unaware of her circumstance but her mother sees it all too well. However, despite her family’s indifference and criticism, Ghita aspires to be an agricultural engineer and refuses to let her family prevent her from accomplishing her dreams. Despite these tensions Ghita preserves a strong sense of family. She addresses that no matter how much potential you have you will be held back without your family’s support. This made me think about my own family. How I rarely call my brother and sister and frequently get into spats with my parents. These small acts are what Ghita tries to avoid to preserve her family and it was remarkable to see this unity.

            Unified. This was her message to the world. “We do not have the right to judge others, God alone has this right. It is our job as humans to unify.” Keep in mind this is coming from a 12 year old. Wise beyond her years, Ghita said something every human should be aware of. We are not in charge of others; the only life we have the right to govern is our own. If you are judging look at the mirror, we are not divided because of our cultures- we are unified through humanity. Humans divide themselves but we are all the same. There is no you and I or us and them- simply we. Ghita, Kevin, Katie, and I began to discuss religion. Everything I have seen of Islam is good. The way they express their beliefs mirrors my own. As we intimately discussed our core beliefs a shiver ran down my spine and a clear picture was painted. Whatever religion we follow doesn’t matter- good will be good, bad will be bad. There are far more good people than bad, but it is easy to label an entire culture based off those who negatively represent it. We are all ambassadors to humanity and having the responsibility of this role we must be the good, see the good, and bring good to others. We are all ignorant, but I feel blessed to have insight into this culture and reinforce the idea that we are all the same. 

#bossy

Morocco defies the norm, breaking stereotypes that limit many other countries. Morocco, located in Northern Africa bordering the Sahara Desert appeared to be hot, very hot. I expected to experience scorching heat as soon as we landed, but contrarily a cool ocean breeze whipped through our hair as we took our first steps in Morocco. We entered the maze of the medina, a section of Rabat where we are staying, and I was immediately embraced in their culture. The medina is exquisite- unlike anything I had ever seen. It was a scene from Aladdin with rugs, lanterns, and new smells around every corner. We arrived at the school and entered the office where we met the director of Abdasalam Sayah Middle School, Touria. She was inspirational. Entering a culture where “all women are oppressed” it was enchanting to see her command and authority. It is clear that she is superior and what she says goes. Through Jihane and Ali, our hosts and translators, we were able to hear her story. Raised in a middle class family Touria ended at the top her class and taught history giving her a passion to learn about other cultures. Eventually, she became the director of the school and has held this position for 16 years revolutionizing it to provide the best education for her students. For having only slept for 2 hours since leaving the Denver Airport at 7 am Sunday I was wide awake hearing her inspiring story. This strong display of feminism immediately changed my expectations for the trip. And so far these new expectations have been met. Along with the excited nervousness that accompanies teaching on the first day there was surprise when I walked into a classroom with 8 girls and one boy. And the boy, Taha, despite his exuberant personality he was less advanced in his English than many of the girls. I was expecting there to either be a 1:1 ratio where or more boys in the class than girls. Hearing about the oppression of Middle Eastern girls such as Malala Yousafazi it is easy to stereotype one culture off the isolated single tragedies rather than all the good that happens every day in peaceful countries. Not to say that women aren’t oppressed, but they are not severely oppressed in every nation. There is no doubt that Arab nations are portrayed pessimistically in most American media. This negativity should not be displayed towards Morocco; everything I have seen defies this stigma. It is my responsibility and yours, reading my blog, to help change this perception. Eventually this ripple will spread help to change the misconception about Morocco, as well as other Arab nations. Butterflies every time, occurring with the first steps into the classroom in Tanzania and Cambodia- Morocco is no different. Stepping into the classroom I had no expectations except for the one fact we had been given that the students speak no English; this was proven false. Megan and I expected to walk into a class and be able to teach the ABC’s and other basic, beginner lessons. However, their levels of English were not suitable for the lessons planned- they were higher, much higher. Our first day we were left to do many improvised lessons, however the second day we had suitable lessons outlined which smoothed over yesterday’s cracks. This success made our goals for the rest of the trip seem feasible and encouraged the power of my teaching. We reviewed nouns and verbs throughout the day with activities ranging from acting verbs outside to unscrambling nouns. As the bell rang the class jumped up, I assumed to leave, however they ran up to the board all of them eager to answer one last question. This simple moment I will never forget. This set my class apart from all other classes I have taught. This will inspire me for the duration of the trip, and my own education at home. This is why I continue to these trips: for when the unexpected happens and the norm is broken. I feel fortunate to be able to see this raw talent and eagerness to learn and to be able to help cultivate it changing their future through the strength of being able to speak English. These students are the ones who will be leaders in Moroccan society through their high aspirations and love to learn. There has been considerable progress, but Morocco needs to continue to move forward. Kevin, Katie, Fatimazara, and I went on a home visit to Miriam’s and Btissam’s home. Although they are only a few years apart in age Miriam is Btissam’s aunt. When Miriam was a child Btissam’s mother took her in after the death of her mother and father. We were able to hear how Morocco has changed for the better through Miriam’s sister. She was unable to continue school after her sister got married because of her mother’s fear of wasting money on education for her daughters who would end up as married housewives. As much as Miriam’s sister wishes she could go back to school she is thrilled about Miriam’s and Btissam’s education and their desires to become and doctor and engineer. Five people live in their narrow house in the heart of the medina- four girls and one boy. All the girls share the living room while the 17 year old boy has his own room with 2 beds, a phone, TV, and computer. However, no one seemed to question this system. Despite having more access to knowledge about women’s rights along with a higher percentage of girls entering schools and going to college it is still not questioned when a man who provides limited income has a room and luxuries to himself, while four other women share a living room to sleep in. These slight disparities can be seen throughout the world even in our homes. On average women make 79 cents to the dollar that men make. However, what I observe in Morocco is progress. Whether it is in the classroom learning prepositions, nouns, and verbs with in the span of two hours or the progression of women’s rights in Morocco from the 1980s to where they are today. I hope to continue to see this process and help foster it.