About Miss Joanna
First of all she is not an Indian. But she came to India for all of us. I am very grateful to you. That you have come to meet us from another country.
She is a teacher, she teaches us science and maths. She loves all of us. She is not famous in America but she is famous in our school and villages. There are many people who are famous in America but they did not come to meet us. She is a kind and peaceful teacher.
There is an advice to you: “Please try to come again.” We will miss you very much.
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Monday, August 1, 2011
Opportunities to Get Involved
On Thursday I leave for Delhi, where I will spend a few days sight-seeing before returning home. I want to take a minute to thank everyone who contributed to this trip, either through a monetary donation for the boys, by sending kind words to a friend who is far from home, or even just by following along on the blog. I have been blessed and honored to have this experience, and I’m determined not to let it end when the plane’s wheels touch down at PHL. Once I settle in to my new job, I’ve promised the founder that I will search out some grant opportunities and do my best to secure extra funding. I know some of you have grant-writing experience, and I’d accept any help you can offer. The school is busting at the seams right now, and they are hoping to move into a state-of-art facility by 2014 that will have new classrooms, nicer dormitories, and an area for the students to have physical education. They’ll be able to accept more students in each class, and use education to create more catalysts for change in the Musahar community. If you’ve been moved by stories of these kids and the mission of the school, I encourage you to make a donation. I’ll be sending a care package by the end of September with copies of the photos I’ve taken as well as some school supplies and books. I’ll publish a list of what would be helpful on the blog when I return. If you prefer, you can also make a donation directly to the school to help provide for clothing, food, school supplies and medical care for the kids at this website: http://seeyourimpact.org/2010/07/01/musahar_shoshit_seva_sangh/. There you can see photos of the kids your money is helping, real kids I’ve met this summer with unbelievable potential in the face of overwhelming adversity.
Leaving
I have only 2 days left here at the school, and it's hard not to tear up when I look at the boys. I will miss them more than they can possibly know. It seems that every day now, I meet a new boy with some amazing hidden talent or interest. You already know about Chance and his story writing. I published a book for him with his collected stories and it stretched to 14 pages single-spaced. Since then he has written at least five more, and he has spurred a wave of followers who dutifully bring me their stories for correction every evening. What they really want is for me to go clack-clack-clack and turn their stories into printed pages. I’ve had to limit most of them to one story a piece, otherwise I would do nothing but type at my computer all day. Then there is the boy who dances like Michael Jackson, despite growing up in a village with no electricity and only catching snippets of his moves on video. I couldn’t have presented my workshops without the Class Seven boy who is a technical genius to set up my audio visual equipment. I’m told he built a functioning toy car and a working lamp out of junk he found around the school. There is another boy who collects acronyms, and brought me a notebook filled with carefully printed letters and their full forms asking me “What is the meaning of B.C.? And A.D.?” I am disappointed to think that I won’t get to know all 238 of them in the same way. I think the feeling is compounded by the fact that I don't get to go back to my U.S. boys again this fall. I've been missing them this whole summer. Every time I get out the photos to show kids here, there are my Fitz boys in their uniforms, learning in my class or on field trips to the zoo or a college. Despite all the grieving I’ve done for leaving Fitz, I don’t think it’s truly sunk in that I’m really not going back. I find myself thinking about decorations for my classroom and new procedures I want to try in September. I'm really going to miss being a teacher.
Small Successes
I know that my being here has inspired many of the children to work harder in their studies. I know it has re-invigorated many of the teachers. I also know that I will never truly know the true impact these five and a half weeks have had on the people I met here. Yesterday at the weekly assembly, I was able to celebrate a small but rewarding success. The results from the weekly exams are reported on Mondays, with students who have earned stars asked to stand for a round of applause, and the students who have failed one or more subjects made to stand in public shame. [Note for an American audience: Although I was repulsed by the second part of this practice during the first assembly, after more fully understanding the context of this school, the amazing opportunity these boys are given, and the expectations of their parents, I have come to support it as both a discipline tool and as a way to remind students that it is their responsibility to study and take full advantage of the resources offered here.]
The students in kindergarten here range greatly in age and ability level. From the smallest who have trouble recognizing letters in English to the strongest students who can read sentences and know their times tables. For many of these children, SSK is the first experience in their lives when they must follow a strict routine, take regular baths, wash their own clothes, and sit for hours daily in a chair. The change from their villages to this school must be shocking to them. The kindergarten teacher is totally overwhelmed with 49 little ones in the same room with such varying abilities. When I started tutoring, the 10 lowest students were assigned to meet with me once weekly. I decided to meet one-on-one a few times a week with the three lowest, as they were quantitatively lower than the others. They all struggled to recognize letters and could not spell the numbers one through ten, let alone higher numbers that they were being asked on their exams. They were repeatedly failing their weekly exams. This week, all three of them passed their English test! Although such progress is not normally celebrated at the assembly (they did not do so well as to earn stars), I asked special permission for these three to stand, and the terrace was filled with thunderous applause for their accomplishment. In this one moment, all the inconveniences and hardships I suffered to secure the visa, to travel half-way around the world, to live in a vermin-infested room without air conditioning or reliable water or power for five and a half weeks melted away into insignificance. To see their beaming faces as their friends and teachers cheered for them paid me back a hundredfold.
The students in kindergarten here range greatly in age and ability level. From the smallest who have trouble recognizing letters in English to the strongest students who can read sentences and know their times tables. For many of these children, SSK is the first experience in their lives when they must follow a strict routine, take regular baths, wash their own clothes, and sit for hours daily in a chair. The change from their villages to this school must be shocking to them. The kindergarten teacher is totally overwhelmed with 49 little ones in the same room with such varying abilities. When I started tutoring, the 10 lowest students were assigned to meet with me once weekly. I decided to meet one-on-one a few times a week with the three lowest, as they were quantitatively lower than the others. They all struggled to recognize letters and could not spell the numbers one through ten, let alone higher numbers that they were being asked on their exams. They were repeatedly failing their weekly exams. This week, all three of them passed their English test! Although such progress is not normally celebrated at the assembly (they did not do so well as to earn stars), I asked special permission for these three to stand, and the terrace was filled with thunderous applause for their accomplishment. In this one moment, all the inconveniences and hardships I suffered to secure the visa, to travel half-way around the world, to live in a vermin-infested room without air conditioning or reliable water or power for five and a half weeks melted away into insignificance. To see their beaming faces as their friends and teachers cheered for them paid me back a hundredfold.
Workshops
Last week I conducted five 90-minute workshops on the Five-Step Lesson Plan, Student Practice, and Checking for Understanding for the 14 teachers here (Sir hired two more just before the workshops began). The teachers were very excited and were conscientious students, doing their reading before hand and completing all homework assignments. Overall I think the workshops were successful, but if I had to do them over again I’d make a few changes. For example, I’d lessen the amount of reading required for the teachers. As second language learners, reading the annotated lesson plans seemed to take at least twice as long. I’d also try to conduct the workshops in the morning—it was so hot and the teachers were so tired by the end of the day that despite their general enthusiasm for the content, some had trouble staying awake or focusing. The feedback data is generally positive, although I’m a bit concerned that teachers were on the fence between Agree and Disagree when asked if the strategies presented could be put into practice at SSK. Definitely a learning experience for me, and I hope a learning experience for them. The best part was teaching the I Do/We Do/You Do dance to everyone on the first day and then hearing them critique each other’s dance steps throughout the week. Even the founder and chairman got into the action of the last day, breaking it down.
**Special Shoutout to Gabby at TFA for sharing so many resources that made workshop prep a million times easier!
**Special Shoutout to Gabby at TFA for sharing so many resources that made workshop prep a million times easier!
Saturday, July 30, 2011
A Second Chance
A True Story by Chance Stone
When I was at home before I came here, I used to do household chores with my mother. My parents could not send me to the school because of the lack of money. I used to fritter away the time playing and doing lots of inferior things. But my heart has always been saying to study. I used to look at the students going to their school in their uniforms, seeing this, my eyes used to fill with tears. I had always been asking my mother to study, but she could not allow me to do so. Before I had no goals to achieve. I thought, “Now I can’t study. I will be a farmer.” Many years went by. One day she sent me to a government school. But teachers were not good. They always kept sleeping on their chairs. And children used to make noises. But I was helpless. I kept going to the school.
One day my father woke me up in the morning and said, “Get ready, we have to go to Patna.” I wanted to say, “Why?” but I did not ask. Then I got ready and we started on the way. Almost five boys were coming too with their parents on the train. After three hours, we reached here and then came to know that if we will pass the examination only then we will be admitted here. We appeared for the examination, and on the results paper I saw that I and two more boys from my village have passed the examination.
But what was this? When I came here, I started to get homesick. I always kept weeping. Then I was dismissed from here. My father was called to take me away. When I reached my home, after three days my mother brought me here again. She was requesting to God to re-admit me. And it happened. From that day I started studying hard. I was unable to read an English sentence. But by laboring hard I started reading English fluently. Then I chose a goal, and still, even now I am here and studying.
When I was at home before I came here, I used to do household chores with my mother. My parents could not send me to the school because of the lack of money. I used to fritter away the time playing and doing lots of inferior things. But my heart has always been saying to study. I used to look at the students going to their school in their uniforms, seeing this, my eyes used to fill with tears. I had always been asking my mother to study, but she could not allow me to do so. Before I had no goals to achieve. I thought, “Now I can’t study. I will be a farmer.” Many years went by. One day she sent me to a government school. But teachers were not good. They always kept sleeping on their chairs. And children used to make noises. But I was helpless. I kept going to the school.
One day my father woke me up in the morning and said, “Get ready, we have to go to Patna.” I wanted to say, “Why?” but I did not ask. Then I got ready and we started on the way. Almost five boys were coming too with their parents on the train. After three hours, we reached here and then came to know that if we will pass the examination only then we will be admitted here. We appeared for the examination, and on the results paper I saw that I and two more boys from my village have passed the examination.
But what was this? When I came here, I started to get homesick. I always kept weeping. Then I was dismissed from here. My father was called to take me away. When I reached my home, after three days my mother brought me here again. She was requesting to God to re-admit me. And it happened. From that day I started studying hard. I was unable to read an English sentence. But by laboring hard I started reading English fluently. Then I chose a goal, and still, even now I am here and studying.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
More writing from kids
This is an unsolicited list of sentences about me by a third grade student. Some are not true, but many are funny. When I think of how I must be perceived by these students, I laugh inside.
Ms. Joanna Stone
Ms. Joanna Stone is a very good teacher in my school.
She comes from America.
She always speaks English language.
She knows everything.
She has one camera and one laptop.
She likes strawberries.
Her favourite subject is science and maths. She also teaches very well.
She studies science and maths in America. She has many packs of cards. Sometimes she plays with me with cards. She also made study routine.
She lives in my school.
Sometimes she comes in my class and teaches English.
She also knows good manners.
On Sunday she went to the shop to buy somethings.
She also wears rubber bands.
She likes drinking coffee.
She also types very fast on the laptop.
She loves all boys of SSK school.
And also boys love her.
Sometime she takes photos with camera.
Sometime she plays Buzz game with me.
Thank you very much mam.
Ms. Joanna Stone
Ms. Joanna Stone is a very good teacher in my school.
She comes from America.
She always speaks English language.
She knows everything.
She has one camera and one laptop.
She likes strawberries.
Her favourite subject is science and maths. She also teaches very well.
She studies science and maths in America. She has many packs of cards. Sometimes she plays with me with cards. She also made study routine.
She lives in my school.
Sometimes she comes in my class and teaches English.
She also knows good manners.
On Sunday she went to the shop to buy somethings.
She also wears rubber bands.
She likes drinking coffee.
She also types very fast on the laptop.
She loves all boys of SSK school.
And also boys love her.
Sometime she takes photos with camera.
Sometime she plays Buzz game with me.
Thank you very much mam.
Friday, July 22, 2011
Amazing Students
There are so many kids I could write about here, but the one who is currently burrowing a hole right through my heart is Chance (not his real name, just my nickname for him) from Class 4. He is almost 10 years old and has been at the school for 3 years. Before coming here he had a brief stint in a government school where the teacher would come in and fall asleep on his chair while the students played and made noises all day. He had no exposure to English and lived in a village 3 hours away from here by train. His parents brought him for the examination, which he passed, but when he first came to the school he was homesick and was dismissed because he was crying all the time. His mother begged for him to be re-admitted, and from the time he came back to the school, he has applied himself to his studies relentlessly. Although he is generally a quiet and shy boy, one day he got up the courage to ask me for four vocabulary words. I gave him glisten, shimmer, mature and opaque. Within a few hours, he came back. He had looked them up in the dictionary and then written a short paragraph for each one. He asked me to correct his writing (he calls it “copy”) and then demanded four new words. He has since moved on to using all four words in one story, then asking for a topic to write a story about. He comes to my door at least twice per day to receive his next assignment. All of this is done for his own pleasure, just to improve his English. Yesterday I sat down to type up his accumulated work, and it stretched for 7 type-written pages. Since then he has written two more stories. He wants to be a writer or a cricket player when he grows up. Of course I am hoping for the first. I’ve pasted my favorite of his stories below. It includes the few corrections I made, but the vast majority of the text is his words.
Ms. Stone
Ms. Stone-mam came here as a guest from the U.S.A. We are very, very thankful to her, that she has taken the trouble to come here. Here, she teaches students. Sometimes she gives us a maths problem called “Brain teaser.” The boy who solves it is rewarded by her with a pencil. It also contains a small piece of eraser. Sometimes she gives a rubber band. Till now I have never seen her angry. I think she is kind, too. Till now I have received an award from her three times, two times a pencil and once a rubber band.
One day in class, she gave playing cards to all of Class 4th. I was playing another game, that’s why she took back her cards. I was so sad losing the cards. Then I said, “Mam, give me some words to make sentences.” She gave me four words (1) glisten, (2) shimmer, (3) opaque, and (4) mature. In these four words her favorite sentence was:
Opaque
Two friends were talking to each other. They went to a priest and said, “Can you tell out future?” The priest agreed. One of the friends said to the priest, “Can you tell what is behind the wall?” The priest said, “How can I tell what is behind the wall?” He said, “If you can see the future you can see the things kept behind the opaque things too!”
Then I demanded more words, and she gave four words again. Like this she pointed out my mistakes, and I kept improving my English. Whenever I go to her door, she calls me inside and checks my copy. I am very, very thankful to her for this kind of act. I can never forget her. She is my most honourable teacher and God, too. One day she hugged me, that three seconds were the most sweetest and memorable seconds of my life. The next day was Foundation Day. She put on a saree on that occasion. We were shocked. She was looking better than any other. She was sitting in the front row. Her speech was superb.
When Foundation Day ended, I was very sad because my parents didn’t come. I was roaming here and there, she saw me and said, “Did your parents come?” I replied sadly, “No mam.” And she was talking to the guardians.
Ms. Stone
Ms. Stone-mam came here as a guest from the U.S.A. We are very, very thankful to her, that she has taken the trouble to come here. Here, she teaches students. Sometimes she gives us a maths problem called “Brain teaser.” The boy who solves it is rewarded by her with a pencil. It also contains a small piece of eraser. Sometimes she gives a rubber band. Till now I have never seen her angry. I think she is kind, too. Till now I have received an award from her three times, two times a pencil and once a rubber band.
One day in class, she gave playing cards to all of Class 4th. I was playing another game, that’s why she took back her cards. I was so sad losing the cards. Then I said, “Mam, give me some words to make sentences.” She gave me four words (1) glisten, (2) shimmer, (3) opaque, and (4) mature. In these four words her favorite sentence was:
Opaque
Two friends were talking to each other. They went to a priest and said, “Can you tell out future?” The priest agreed. One of the friends said to the priest, “Can you tell what is behind the wall?” The priest said, “How can I tell what is behind the wall?” He said, “If you can see the future you can see the things kept behind the opaque things too!”
Then I demanded more words, and she gave four words again. Like this she pointed out my mistakes, and I kept improving my English. Whenever I go to her door, she calls me inside and checks my copy. I am very, very thankful to her for this kind of act. I can never forget her. She is my most honourable teacher and God, too. One day she hugged me, that three seconds were the most sweetest and memorable seconds of my life. The next day was Foundation Day. She put on a saree on that occasion. We were shocked. She was looking better than any other. She was sitting in the front row. Her speech was superb.
When Foundation Day ended, I was very sad because my parents didn’t come. I was roaming here and there, she saw me and said, “Did your parents come?” I replied sadly, “No mam.” And she was talking to the guardians.
The Beautification of Ms. Stone
So, you all know that I’m a pretty plain girl. I don’t put stock in most of the traditional feminine notions of beauty: no engagement ring, rarely wear makeup or jewelry of any kind, couldn’t care less if I’ve got hair to brush or not, you get the idea. Well, my poor mother has been struggling with this for years. “Why don’t you just wear a necklace to dress it up a little bit?” “Earrings would look so nice with that.” “Your hair looks beautiful when its longer.” You get the picture.
Well, now she’s got an army on her side. Every Indian woman and man that I’ve met has insisted that as a married woman, I must wear jewelry. Poonam has made it her personal mission to turn me into a lady. From the painted nails, makeup, bindi and jewelry for Foundation Day to henna designs on my hands and bracelets for every day, she has done her level best to make me presentable. This week she got unexpected support from a former actress-turned-social worker who came to the school to meet me. Shocked and appalled at my lack of decoration, she stripped seven bangles off of each arm, forced them over my giant paws and even removed a silver ring from each foot to adorn my toes. She would have given me earrings and a necklace as well, but fortunately she finally ceded to my protestations. Wearing any one of the gifts I’ve been given guarantees exclamations of affirmation and delight from children and adults alike wherever I go. I’m doing my best to make them happy. Don’t expect me to keep it up when I get back across the ponds, however.
Well, now she’s got an army on her side. Every Indian woman and man that I’ve met has insisted that as a married woman, I must wear jewelry. Poonam has made it her personal mission to turn me into a lady. From the painted nails, makeup, bindi and jewelry for Foundation Day to henna designs on my hands and bracelets for every day, she has done her level best to make me presentable. This week she got unexpected support from a former actress-turned-social worker who came to the school to meet me. Shocked and appalled at my lack of decoration, she stripped seven bangles off of each arm, forced them over my giant paws and even removed a silver ring from each foot to adorn my toes. She would have given me earrings and a necklace as well, but fortunately she finally ceded to my protestations. Wearing any one of the gifts I’ve been given guarantees exclamations of affirmation and delight from children and adults alike wherever I go. I’m doing my best to make them happy. Don’t expect me to keep it up when I get back across the ponds, however.
Rat-Catching
If you’re friends with me on Facebook, you’ve already heard about my struggles to coexist peacefully with my rodent neighbors. The photographer who visited last week made an astute observation that has dramatically changed my position in this ongoing war. He said, “Why are you suffering from rodent invasions when you are living in a school surrounded by 250 boys who are Rat Catchers by caste?” Excellent question, sir. So, this week I issued a challenge to the boys in the dormitory right outside my room. They were ecstatic for three reasons, I think: 1) to be able to help me out, 2) to be able to see inside my room, and 3) for the sheer joy of catching something. They got a trap, baited it with white bread, and set it up on the floor in my kitchen. Not five minutes later I could hear the metallic snap indicating their success. They all came running, and demanded a picture with their prisoner. That first rat turned out to be the smallest one caught out of the three trapped over the next hour. I don’t know exactly how they dispose of the villains, but “Good Riddance” is all I have to say to them.
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Foundation Day
Right in the middle of the photographers visit and seeing all of these villages, the school celebrated Foundation Day. Families started arriving in the morning to have extra time visiting with their students before the program was scheduled to start at 5pm. Around 50 invited guests showed up just before the show started, and I sat in the front row as one of the most honored guests. Thankfully I had the help of the other teachers to make me presentable, as the only clothes I brought were casual clothes designed to be lightweight and quick to dry. Amit brought in a sari in my favorite color, and Mandakini altered the sleeves to fit and then wrapped me up in it the night of the event. Poonam painted my finger- and toenails, applied powder and lipstick, loaned me earrings and a necklace, provided me with a stick-on bindi, and went out to purchase bangles at the last minute. All of their hard work paid off, and the students and families were suitably impressed with my transformation. I even managed to walk up and down flights of stairs and onto the stage without falling or destroying anything.
The boys acquitted themselves very well as all their practice paid off. The announcers were calm under pressure, and cracked the cutest English jokes, although I think I was the only one laughing. The dancers, singers and actors performed very well, despite constant issues with the microphones and sound. The founder and the director both gave short speeches, the teachers were all introduced by name, and I was even invited to say a few words. I thanked everyone in turns, focusing especially on the families and students themselves. Despite attempting to arrange for translation so I could be understood, the families remained in the dark about the kind words spoken about their children. At the end of the show, the teachers presented a surprise birthday cake to the founder, which he promptly turned over to the students. After the show I made a beeline for the families (who were seated in the back, literally on a separate building from the invited guests, students and the stage). I had a hard time convincing students to introduce me to their parents since our conversation would of course be very limited, but in the end I succeeded in meeting quite a few. I think a lot can be communicated with a heartfelt exchange of “Namaste” and smiles toward the children.
The boys acquitted themselves very well as all their practice paid off. The announcers were calm under pressure, and cracked the cutest English jokes, although I think I was the only one laughing. The dancers, singers and actors performed very well, despite constant issues with the microphones and sound. The founder and the director both gave short speeches, the teachers were all introduced by name, and I was even invited to say a few words. I thanked everyone in turns, focusing especially on the families and students themselves. Despite attempting to arrange for translation so I could be understood, the families remained in the dark about the kind words spoken about their children. At the end of the show, the teachers presented a surprise birthday cake to the founder, which he promptly turned over to the students. After the show I made a beeline for the families (who were seated in the back, literally on a separate building from the invited guests, students and the stage). I had a hard time convincing students to introduce me to their parents since our conversation would of course be very limited, but in the end I succeeded in meeting quite a few. I think a lot can be communicated with a heartfelt exchange of “Namaste” and smiles toward the children.
Visits to Some Villages
Two photographers arrived from Delhi on Friday to make a documentary about the school. They stayed through Monday, and I got to tag along with them on their visits to some Musahar villages where our children’s families live. We went in Mr. Sinha’s car along with Manoj, Guddu and the driver. As we left the more urban area behind, multi-story buildings gave way to half-complete brick structures surrounded by rice paddies. Water buffalo were standing in the fields everywhere, and I saw a small boy curled up taking a nap on the haunches of one. The Musahar are of the lowest caste of people, and they are not allowed to live just anywhere. For example, on the way we passed Manoj’s village where they come to work as servants and day laborers, but they are not permitted to live there. They live in concentrated areas known as Musahari, which vary in size and composition but are all generally composed of mud or brick huts with thatched roofs. All have animals roaming freely, are littered with various types of refuse, are plagued by flies, and are overrun by hordes of semi-naked children. Some were truly horrific places to imagine living (those with higher population density, closer to the city and without farmland surrounding them), while others were less awful (houses were spaced apart, breezes blew in from the countryside, and some drainage was present). Most had one source of water: a handpump, located at varying distances from the center of the village. While we visited, the handpumps were in continuous use for washing dishes or bathing.
At the first village, we walked down a long path through the rice paddies to reach the cluster of brick and mud buildings. This time, we were guided by an aspiring political leader who has a son at SSK (he appears in the photos in white). As we approached, women and children scattered, and men stared. The reactions to us varied greatly. Those with children at the school received us with open arms, often inviting us to sit at their houses and in one case offering us bottled water and store-purchased biscuits. Those with no connection to the school generally stared and kept at a safe distance. There were a few parents, however, whose children had not passed the examinations. Some of these offered supplications to Manoj to reconsider, while others yelled at him as we walked through the villages. During these times, I was grateful to be accompanied by a former Karate instructor and stuck close by him. The other villagers also told their friends to be quiet, and I never felt truly in danger.
The children’s reactions were exactly the same in every village. At first, they were shyly curious, hiding behind buildings, each other, or their mothers’ saris. After I snapped a photo or two and held up the results to the subject, they changed their tune and began requesting more photos by positioning themselves in front of my camera. I could literally move a whole group of children from one side of the path to the other simply by shifting my camera’s position. I then became the Pied Piper with a trail of children following me throughout the village, laughing and smiling. When one spotted the tattoo on my foot, that whole village had a good long belly laugh. I’m not really sure what was so funny, but I laughed too. A few brave souls, usually older children who had had some schooling) tried out their English on me, saying “Sir, me!” and then posing for a photo. One gentleman handed me a blank appointment book and asked me for my autograph. In Hindi he then also asked for a job, but I couldn’t really help in that way, so I wrote down my name and “Philadelphia, PA.” Other villagers asked for money or food, but these requests were not often translated for me.
On our second day of visiting villages, we saw why these people are known as the Rat-Eaters. Two separate young boys were carrying around small rats, one dead and one tethered by his leg to a stick. A man carried a larger rat, trapped by a wire around the ankle, that he proceeded to kill, roast over an open fire on a stick, and prepare with onions, salt, and other spices. I trust he was paid for this, so that the photographers were able to document this distinct practice, but no one partook of the delicacy while we were present. I had been willing to try, but one of the photographers (probably wisely) forbade me from doing so.
Given the deplorable living conditions and the lack of any realistic hope for improvement, I suppose it should not be surprising that most of the men we saw in every village were drinking and/or drunk on homemade liquor. Employment prospects are limited to extremely low-paying menial labor in which one man reported earning the equivalent of $2 per day. Others reported making significantly less. Nevertheless, it is shameful to see grown men spending what little money they have on alcohol and then the majority of their day consuming it while their children run around barefoot, shirtless, covered in dirt, and suffering from diseases. I don’t mean to place all the blame on the men, for it is the women who are preparing the liquor. Still, at least they spend hours each day in the difficult work of keeping the children fed and clothed and clean.
My final take away from these village visits is that the only hope for the Musahar is in their children. You can see it in their faces—I hope I captured some of it in the nearly 500 photos I took. Faced with such devastating conditions, they nevertheless glow from the inside. They smile easily and seem convinced that good is just around the corner. For the boys who have made it to SSK, at least, I believe this is true. Although the transition from village to dormitory must be intense and difficult, ultimately, they have been given such an amazing opportunity. They are able to learn and study, to eat nutritious food, to stay healthy, and eventually to compete with students from much more privileged backgrounds for college admissions and ultimately employment beyond menial labor. The founder of the school talks about the boys being catalysts for change for their community, and I have to hope that this is indeed possible. These boys must succeed. For the Musahar (to borrow a phrase from Fitz) there really is no other option.
At the first village, we walked down a long path through the rice paddies to reach the cluster of brick and mud buildings. This time, we were guided by an aspiring political leader who has a son at SSK (he appears in the photos in white). As we approached, women and children scattered, and men stared. The reactions to us varied greatly. Those with children at the school received us with open arms, often inviting us to sit at their houses and in one case offering us bottled water and store-purchased biscuits. Those with no connection to the school generally stared and kept at a safe distance. There were a few parents, however, whose children had not passed the examinations. Some of these offered supplications to Manoj to reconsider, while others yelled at him as we walked through the villages. During these times, I was grateful to be accompanied by a former Karate instructor and stuck close by him. The other villagers also told their friends to be quiet, and I never felt truly in danger.
The children’s reactions were exactly the same in every village. At first, they were shyly curious, hiding behind buildings, each other, or their mothers’ saris. After I snapped a photo or two and held up the results to the subject, they changed their tune and began requesting more photos by positioning themselves in front of my camera. I could literally move a whole group of children from one side of the path to the other simply by shifting my camera’s position. I then became the Pied Piper with a trail of children following me throughout the village, laughing and smiling. When one spotted the tattoo on my foot, that whole village had a good long belly laugh. I’m not really sure what was so funny, but I laughed too. A few brave souls, usually older children who had had some schooling) tried out their English on me, saying “Sir, me!” and then posing for a photo. One gentleman handed me a blank appointment book and asked me for my autograph. In Hindi he then also asked for a job, but I couldn’t really help in that way, so I wrote down my name and “Philadelphia, PA.” Other villagers asked for money or food, but these requests were not often translated for me.
On our second day of visiting villages, we saw why these people are known as the Rat-Eaters. Two separate young boys were carrying around small rats, one dead and one tethered by his leg to a stick. A man carried a larger rat, trapped by a wire around the ankle, that he proceeded to kill, roast over an open fire on a stick, and prepare with onions, salt, and other spices. I trust he was paid for this, so that the photographers were able to document this distinct practice, but no one partook of the delicacy while we were present. I had been willing to try, but one of the photographers (probably wisely) forbade me from doing so.
Given the deplorable living conditions and the lack of any realistic hope for improvement, I suppose it should not be surprising that most of the men we saw in every village were drinking and/or drunk on homemade liquor. Employment prospects are limited to extremely low-paying menial labor in which one man reported earning the equivalent of $2 per day. Others reported making significantly less. Nevertheless, it is shameful to see grown men spending what little money they have on alcohol and then the majority of their day consuming it while their children run around barefoot, shirtless, covered in dirt, and suffering from diseases. I don’t mean to place all the blame on the men, for it is the women who are preparing the liquor. Still, at least they spend hours each day in the difficult work of keeping the children fed and clothed and clean.
My final take away from these village visits is that the only hope for the Musahar is in their children. You can see it in their faces—I hope I captured some of it in the nearly 500 photos I took. Faced with such devastating conditions, they nevertheless glow from the inside. They smile easily and seem convinced that good is just around the corner. For the boys who have made it to SSK, at least, I believe this is true. Although the transition from village to dormitory must be intense and difficult, ultimately, they have been given such an amazing opportunity. They are able to learn and study, to eat nutritious food, to stay healthy, and eventually to compete with students from much more privileged backgrounds for college admissions and ultimately employment beyond menial labor. The founder of the school talks about the boys being catalysts for change for their community, and I have to hope that this is indeed possible. These boys must succeed. For the Musahar (to borrow a phrase from Fitz) there really is no other option.
Monday, July 11, 2011
Foundation Day
Our schedule has been disrupted this week as students and faculty prepare for Foundation Day, a yearly celebration which is to take place this Saturday the 16th. There are some dance routines, skits, and nursery rhymes to be performed by the students for their families and visiting dignitaries. The students only have two classes in the morning and then spend the rest of the school day practicing. I am very anxious to meet families and to see the results of the students’ labors. There will be two student emcees, who will host in both English and Hindi. One of the teachers is getting me a sari to wear and Poonam is insisting on painting my toenails and making me wear lipstick. I will be sure to get plenty of photos!
Sight-Seeing
On Sunday last week, one of the math teachers graciously invited me to accompany his family for the day. We went to the Patna Science Center, the Patna Museum, and walked to the top of the Granary. The Science Center was basically a collection of science tricks similar to what they have at the Franklin Institute. The Patna Museum has archaeological artifacts from the region as well as some pretty impressive stuffed animals (a very large crocodile and bison impressed me the most). The Granary is a domed building constructed during a famine to concentrate the city’s food resources. Now it is used for sight-seeing, and after climbing the 1200 stairs**, I was treated to my first view of the Ganges River. Afterwards we went to a very nice restaurant (with a guard outside and glorious air conditioning!) for dosas and coffee. It was a fun but exhausting day. Everywhere we went people stared at me, and especially in the museums this was very exasperating.
**Update: My informant on the number of stairs has now informed me that he was misinformed. The actual number is closer to 145. I have left 1200 in the original post because that's how many it felt like in the blistering humidity of Patna :)
**Update: My informant on the number of stairs has now informed me that he was misinformed. The actual number is closer to 145. I have left 1200 in the original post because that's how many it felt like in the blistering humidity of Patna :)
Staying Healthy in India
On Thursday last week I woke up with diarrhea and feeling very weak. I had not slept well because the generator (located right outside my room) kept turning on and off throughout the night. [Side note: Power failures are a daily occurrence here, and the generator is a crucial contributor to our electricity supply. It powers about half of the light switches and appliances in my room. Yesterday the generator died and half of the school was without power until 3pm. It was almost unbearable to be in some classrooms without the ceiling fans working. Thankfully the food in my fridge stayed pretty cold and I didn’t need to throw anything away.] I took some medicine and decided to stay in bed to rest up. As other teachers came to check on me throughout the day, we came up with the following reasons for my illness:
1) No ventilation in my room
2) The heat and humidity (even in my room)
3) Not resting enough
4) Not exercising enough
5) Something I ate or drank (never identified)
Once enumerated, Manoj wasted no time in rectifying what could be rectified. Holes were opened up in my kitchen to allow air to pass through, my bed was moved to an interior room so that the doors of my suite can be left open to allow air to circulate, and the water was changed in my cooler so that it functions properly. I am ordered to drink at least 5 liters of filtered water daily (I do my best, but that’s a lot of water!) and not to drink chai with the teachers because the water might not have been boiled properly. I decided to take Sunday to rest, as last Sunday’s program of sight-seeing with a teacher and his family did not allow for any recuperation. Unfortunately, the most exercise I can get is walking up and down the stairs, as it is too hot to exert myself much and running is out of the question with the dangerous roads and cow patties everywhere! Nevertheless, I have been feeling much better since last Friday, and I think it was just a very good reminder not to work too hard.
1) No ventilation in my room
2) The heat and humidity (even in my room)
3) Not resting enough
4) Not exercising enough
5) Something I ate or drank (never identified)
Once enumerated, Manoj wasted no time in rectifying what could be rectified. Holes were opened up in my kitchen to allow air to pass through, my bed was moved to an interior room so that the doors of my suite can be left open to allow air to circulate, and the water was changed in my cooler so that it functions properly. I am ordered to drink at least 5 liters of filtered water daily (I do my best, but that’s a lot of water!) and not to drink chai with the teachers because the water might not have been boiled properly. I decided to take Sunday to rest, as last Sunday’s program of sight-seeing with a teacher and his family did not allow for any recuperation. Unfortunately, the most exercise I can get is walking up and down the stairs, as it is too hot to exert myself much and running is out of the question with the dangerous roads and cow patties everywhere! Nevertheless, I have been feeling much better since last Friday, and I think it was just a very good reminder not to work too hard.
My (new) typical day
Today marks the two-week point since I arrived. It's amazing how quickly we can become habituated to new routines. My days are organized by the sounding of a loud gong that one of the guards bangs for assembly in the morning, each change of classes and all meal times. My days have changed a bit since my first week. I’ve pretty much finished my observations of other teachers, and I am in the process of preparing a series of workshops to be given next week to improve teaching methodology. I spend some time each day compiling my notes and developing these workshops. I also continue to check in on classes that I find with no teacher. The biggest addition to my day has been small-group tutoring for the weakest students. The teachers gave me a list of these students in each class, and I developed a schedule to see them all in one week. I have a first session from 3 to 4 (right after lunch) and then a second one from 4:15 to 5:15. In these sessions I have no more than six or seven students, and we focus either on English or math. I give them homework to practice, and then each morning I go around to their classes to check their homework. These sessions interrupt what had been my naptime, so I have begun taking a break from 5:30 to 7pm (when the students are mostly free). Usually most kids are watching television at this time, and as there is only one TV, the room gets quite hot, stinky, and claustrophobic. I watched with them a few times, but now I try to avoid the general area.
At 7pm I visit the classes, where students are supposed to be engaged in self-study. For older students, I ask if they have any lingering questions from their lessons, and they usually have a bunch. They get out their textbooks, and I try to re-explain or clarify things their teachers have already explained. Sometimes this is more difficult than it sounds, such as when they ask me complicated science questions! For younger students, I have them play mental math games like Multiplication War or Buzz-Bang, or we sing songs and nursery rhymes together.
At 7pm I visit the classes, where students are supposed to be engaged in self-study. For older students, I ask if they have any lingering questions from their lessons, and they usually have a bunch. They get out their textbooks, and I try to re-explain or clarify things their teachers have already explained. Sometimes this is more difficult than it sounds, such as when they ask me complicated science questions! For younger students, I have them play mental math games like Multiplication War or Buzz-Bang, or we sing songs and nursery rhymes together.
Monday, July 4, 2011
My typical day
I have been waking up ridiculously early because of jet lag, but around 6am I eat my breakfast and start to get ready for the day. I attend the morning meeting at 7am, where the students pray in unison, sing the national anthem, and listen to a homily from one of the teachers. Then the students head to class and I go with the teachers to the lounge. We take our leisurely time getting there, chatting, and usually they share some food, then 5 minutes or more after the first bell rings, we head to classes. Depending on how many teachers are absent that day, I will either observe a class or teach one for each of the 8 periods. If I teach, I take one of the following approaches 1) I ask the students what subject they should be receiving, then ask them what chapter they are in, then do my best to lead the lesson. Everything is very traditional here, so it is not too complicated. Basically you read a sentence, the students repeat it, then you ask a simple question about it. And repeat. And repeat. Then have them write something in their books. Alternately, 2) I might engage them in a song or tongue-twister to improve their English pronunciation, or sometimes 3) I focus on mental math, either by handing out playing cards and having them play a kind of war game in pairs where the first student to calculate the answer keeps the two cards in play or by playing a class-wide game called Buzz Bang. Another option (usually the most requested) 4) I show them photos from my life in the U.S. and answer their questions, highlighting new vocabulary words and then reviewing them afterward.
After classes are done for the day, I come back to my room to eat lunch and take a short nap. Then in the evenings I seek out students in their classes for more review, to play chess, or to read a book together in the library. Sometimes students come find me and ask me to come to their class. Grades three and four are particularly vocal about asking me to come, but I always make it a point to go by the kindergarten class to visit the students who are the most behind because due to class size and teacher inexperience they get so little attention. I also spend some time visiting with Poonam, and she usually has a million questions about life in the U.s. Then at some point I get her to leave and I am able to type up my notes from the day, read my book, and go to bed.
Oh yeah, and at least once a day the power goes out. Thank goodness for my mini Maglite. Usually it’s only some of the power, and then the generator kicks on to start it back up and it sounds like my room might take off. I especially dislike when this happens while I’m sleeping. Also, on good days it rains partway through the day to cool things off, but some days it just stays hot, muggy and hazy.
After classes are done for the day, I come back to my room to eat lunch and take a short nap. Then in the evenings I seek out students in their classes for more review, to play chess, or to read a book together in the library. Sometimes students come find me and ask me to come to their class. Grades three and four are particularly vocal about asking me to come, but I always make it a point to go by the kindergarten class to visit the students who are the most behind because due to class size and teacher inexperience they get so little attention. I also spend some time visiting with Poonam, and she usually has a million questions about life in the U.s. Then at some point I get her to leave and I am able to type up my notes from the day, read my book, and go to bed.
Oh yeah, and at least once a day the power goes out. Thank goodness for my mini Maglite. Usually it’s only some of the power, and then the generator kicks on to start it back up and it sounds like my room might take off. I especially dislike when this happens while I’m sleeping. Also, on good days it rains partway through the day to cool things off, but some days it just stays hot, muggy and hazy.
My accommodations
I was overwhelmed my first night at the hospitality of my Indian hosts. My suite is on the ground floor and has no windows to the outside (which although gloomy, is definitely a good idea as my presence would attract a lot of gawkers). I have a bedroom, a bathroom, a kitchen, and a fourth room that has a nice chair, a desk, my foodstuffs and a fridge. There is some kind of cooler in my bedroom, which works reasonably well as long as it is not too humid, as well as a brand new PC and a printer. They set up a mosquito net for me on my bed and keep my larder well-stocked with filtered water and a strange array of American food. When I arrived, I found frozen corn, peas, French fries and vegetable lasagna (but not in the freezer); milk, orange juice, mayo, green olives, strawberry jam, white bread, eggs, processed cheese, and assorted vegetables; cans of tuna and baked beans, packages of soup, vegetable crackers, cookies, two bottles of ketchup, and Corn Flakes; and rice, sugar, salt, assorted Indian spices, potatoes and red onions.
Right outside my rooms is a dormitory, and this whole floor used to be a garden area for the students to have recess. As the school grows each year they are taking over more and more space. There are plans to build in a new location within the next three years when funds are raised. The contrast between my suite and the students’ living conditions is hard to handle sometimes, but I have had to get used to being treated differently. The guards insist on standing EVERY time I walk past, even though I have repeatedly asked them not to and I probably pass them 30 times in a given day. If I walk into the dormitory while students are watching the one TV, they immediately change it to an English channel. I must be given the best chair, the best food, the best view, in short, I am treated like royalty. I appreciate the effort, but I walk around feeling guilty most of the day. The flip side is that the students treat me like a celebrity, and I just eat that up.
There is one other female who lives at the school full-time, and I’m not really sure what her exact position is. She’s kind of like a house mother, but she also teaches cursive and drawing to the kindergarten students, and she operates the library and dispensary for school supplies. Her name is Poonam, and she is 22. She is finishing her college degree while she works at the school, and she latched onto me immediately. She is very lonely here most of the time, and she is so excited to have both a friend and an opportunity to practice English. She is curious about everything I do and every part of my life in the U.S. I have had to establish boundaries with her, but I do enjoy her company.
Right outside my rooms is a dormitory, and this whole floor used to be a garden area for the students to have recess. As the school grows each year they are taking over more and more space. There are plans to build in a new location within the next three years when funds are raised. The contrast between my suite and the students’ living conditions is hard to handle sometimes, but I have had to get used to being treated differently. The guards insist on standing EVERY time I walk past, even though I have repeatedly asked them not to and I probably pass them 30 times in a given day. If I walk into the dormitory while students are watching the one TV, they immediately change it to an English channel. I must be given the best chair, the best food, the best view, in short, I am treated like royalty. I appreciate the effort, but I walk around feeling guilty most of the day. The flip side is that the students treat me like a celebrity, and I just eat that up.
There is one other female who lives at the school full-time, and I’m not really sure what her exact position is. She’s kind of like a house mother, but she also teaches cursive and drawing to the kindergarten students, and she operates the library and dispensary for school supplies. Her name is Poonam, and she is 22. She is finishing her college degree while she works at the school, and she latched onto me immediately. She is very lonely here most of the time, and she is so excited to have both a friend and an opportunity to practice English. She is curious about everything I do and every part of my life in the U.S. I have had to establish boundaries with her, but I do enjoy her company.
Description of the school
The school takes up two cement buildings that are joined by narrow walkways on each of the four floors. It is located in the city of Patna, but the students come from the surrounding agricultural villages. The top floor is known as the terrace, and it is covered on one side—this side serves at the auditorium, the cafeteria and kitchen, and a multi-purpose room. The other side is uncovered, and is used for drying clothing, playing, and also contains Manoj’s family’s quarters. Manoj is the supervisor of the school. He pretty much runs everything. He oversees the cooks and the guards, he appears to be the head disciplinarian, he maintains the attendance book for teachers, he assigns coverages when teachers are absent, you get the idea. The other three floors contain a mix of dormitory space and the classrooms. The small library and the director’s office are on the second floor, as well as a small room for faculty to take their breaks.
The school has students in grades Kindergarten through 8th plus a 10th grade class. There are 250 students total, but they are not divided evenly among the grades. There are 49 students in the Kindergarten class, about 45 in 1st, 45 in 2nd, 39 in 3rd, 21 in 4th, 18 in 5th, 16 in 6th, 9 in 7th, 3 in 8th and 4 in 10th. The school has been open since 2007, and has admitted about 50 students per year. At the beginning they had trouble recruiting students (families preferred to send their sons to work) so they had a mixture of ages that has now sorted itself out into the upper classes. Last time they offered the entrance exam 1000 students sat for 50 spots, hence the higher numbers in the lower classes. Each of the grades has a classroom where they are based, and the teachers move between them. The classrooms each have a large dry erase board, a teacher desk, and student desks. Some have a map of India and some additionally have a world map. There are no other supplies in the room. Students spend a lot of time each day in the classroom, with classes from 7 to 1:20, then self-study from 3-4 and again from 7-8:30. The dormitories are assembled with students from each class so that the older boys can look after the younger ones. At morning meeting they form lines by dormitory, with the youngest students in the front.
There are 11 teachers, with about 2 per subject. There are 8 periods in the day, and most teachers teach all 8 periods. There is a half hour breakfast break for students and teachers in the morning and then a 10-minute tea break just before noon. The school runs Monday through Saturday year round with a 10 day holiday at Christmas. Consequently, teacher absenteeism is a real problem. On any given day, one or two of the teachers is absent and a few more will step out to run errands throughout the day. On two days during my first week more than 4 teachers were absent. In the case that coverage can’t be arranged (more often than not) the students remain in their class on their own. Some study or complete homework, but many fall asleep or talk to their neighbors. They do not, however, get out of their seats. Even on the one day this week when all teachers were present, I found many teacher-less classrooms as I walked through the buildings.
The school has students in grades Kindergarten through 8th plus a 10th grade class. There are 250 students total, but they are not divided evenly among the grades. There are 49 students in the Kindergarten class, about 45 in 1st, 45 in 2nd, 39 in 3rd, 21 in 4th, 18 in 5th, 16 in 6th, 9 in 7th, 3 in 8th and 4 in 10th. The school has been open since 2007, and has admitted about 50 students per year. At the beginning they had trouble recruiting students (families preferred to send their sons to work) so they had a mixture of ages that has now sorted itself out into the upper classes. Last time they offered the entrance exam 1000 students sat for 50 spots, hence the higher numbers in the lower classes. Each of the grades has a classroom where they are based, and the teachers move between them. The classrooms each have a large dry erase board, a teacher desk, and student desks. Some have a map of India and some additionally have a world map. There are no other supplies in the room. Students spend a lot of time each day in the classroom, with classes from 7 to 1:20, then self-study from 3-4 and again from 7-8:30. The dormitories are assembled with students from each class so that the older boys can look after the younger ones. At morning meeting they form lines by dormitory, with the youngest students in the front.
There are 11 teachers, with about 2 per subject. There are 8 periods in the day, and most teachers teach all 8 periods. There is a half hour breakfast break for students and teachers in the morning and then a 10-minute tea break just before noon. The school runs Monday through Saturday year round with a 10 day holiday at Christmas. Consequently, teacher absenteeism is a real problem. On any given day, one or two of the teachers is absent and a few more will step out to run errands throughout the day. On two days during my first week more than 4 teachers were absent. In the case that coverage can’t be arranged (more often than not) the students remain in their class on their own. Some study or complete homework, but many fall asleep or talk to their neighbors. They do not, however, get out of their seats. Even on the one day this week when all teachers were present, I found many teacher-less classrooms as I walked through the buildings.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Photos of the Kids!!!
Somehow I missed this website before, but here are photos of some of the students at the school!
http://sss.seeyourimpact.org/stories/
http://sss.seeyourimpact.org/stories/
Departure in less than 1 week!
The visa has been obtained (after two day-long trips to NYC, many phone calls, and a few money orders), the tickets are purchased, the shots received, and the guidebook read, and I'm ready to go!
There are many last minute details to take care of, and thankfully the last day of school is tomorrow so I have a few days to finish preparations.
My flights run from Philly to NYC to Delhi to Patna. The longest one is around 14 hours, but I'm prepared with videos, books, and some Ambien to help with sleeping the hours away. I'll be met at the airport by a representative from the school, then on to the teacher dorms and my new home for the next 6 weeks.
I really don't know what to expect, but I'm so excited that it's been hard to sleep. Thanks again for your support, and I hope to be able to update you often from India.
There are many last minute details to take care of, and thankfully the last day of school is tomorrow so I have a few days to finish preparations.
My flights run from Philly to NYC to Delhi to Patna. The longest one is around 14 hours, but I'm prepared with videos, books, and some Ambien to help with sleeping the hours away. I'll be met at the airport by a representative from the school, then on to the teacher dorms and my new home for the next 6 weeks.
I really don't know what to expect, but I'm so excited that it's been hard to sleep. Thanks again for your support, and I hope to be able to update you often from India.
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Broad Street Run a Success!
Congratulations to
Speedy Gonzalez
Gym Rat
Reepicheep
Nurse Ratched
who finished the 10 Mile Broad Street Run!
And a special thanks to our exceptional cheering section!
Rizzo
Ratbert
Tillie Ratatouille
Chuck E. Cheese
and Gym Rat's family and friends!
Speedy Gonzalez
Gym Rat
Reepicheep
Nurse Ratched
who finished the 10 Mile Broad Street Run!
And a special thanks to our exceptional cheering section!
Rizzo
Ratbert
Tillie Ratatouille
Chuck E. Cheese
and Gym Rat's family and friends!
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Introducing the RatRacers Broad Street 10 Miler Team!
Race Date: Sunday, May 1st
Race Location: Broad Street, Philadelphia (For a map of the course, click here)
To join our team, contact Joanna! To donate, just click the Chip in link on the right hand side of this page.
The following brave (and possibly crazy?) individuals will be running the 10 Mile Broad Street Run:
Mary Wang
aka Speedy Gonzalez
Joey Kozel
aka Splinter
Carrie Angstadt
aka Gym Rat
Joanna Stone
aka Nurse Ratched
Joshua Trott
aka Reepicheep
The following amazing (and definitely remarkable) individuals will be supporting the racers with cheers, water, Gatorade, energy bars, and smiling faces:
Jocelyn Fital
aka Rizzo
Ginny Casey
aka Tillie Ratatouille
Tommy Barker
aka Ratbert
Cara Cheek
aka Chuck E. Cheese
Race Location: Broad Street, Philadelphia (For a map of the course, click here)
To join our team, contact Joanna! To donate, just click the Chip in link on the right hand side of this page.
The following brave (and possibly crazy?) individuals will be running the 10 Mile Broad Street Run:
aka Speedy Gonzalez
Joey Kozel
aka Splinter
Carrie Angstadt
aka Gym Rat
Joanna Stone
aka Nurse Ratched
Joshua Trott
aka Reepicheep
The following amazing (and definitely remarkable) individuals will be supporting the racers with cheers, water, Gatorade, energy bars, and smiling faces:
Jocelyn Fital
aka Rizzo
Ginny Casey
aka Tillie Ratatouille
Tommy Barker
aka Ratbert
Cara Cheek
aka Chuck E. Cheese
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Introduction to Project
This summer I will be traveling to rural northeastern India to volunteer at a residential all-boys school for four weeks. The school serves the Musahar, a group of "untouchables", whose traditional job was to clear the rice fields of rodents, earning them the nickname of "Rat Eaters." They live in extreme poverty, with literacy levels below 6% and land ownership around 2%. They are squatters who live in mud huts and often eat only one meal per day. Many of the reforms we've heard about in India over the past few decades have not improved the lives of the Musahar due to corruption and their lack of political power.
The school is located in Patna, Bihar, and was founded 10 years ago to provide a quality education to students ages 4-14 so that they can go on to higher education and be advocates for their people. I will live at the school and work directly with the students, helping them to improve their English and basic math skills.
My goal is to raise $3000 to take as a gift to the school, which, in addition to educating the students for free, also provides for their food, lodging, clothing, and materials. This amount of money would represent a significant contribution toward the school and would positively affect the lives of hundreds of students.
Thanks in advance for your donation. I will be sure to keep in touch with updates about our progress and will have amazing photos and stories of the kids and their school when I return.
The school is located in Patna, Bihar, and was founded 10 years ago to provide a quality education to students ages 4-14 so that they can go on to higher education and be advocates for their people. I will live at the school and work directly with the students, helping them to improve their English and basic math skills.
My goal is to raise $3000 to take as a gift to the school, which, in addition to educating the students for free, also provides for their food, lodging, clothing, and materials. This amount of money would represent a significant contribution toward the school and would positively affect the lives of hundreds of students.
Thanks in advance for your donation. I will be sure to keep in touch with updates about our progress and will have amazing photos and stories of the kids and their school when I return.
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