LYNN
Elementary Education Undergraduate |
LYNN
Elementary Education Undergraduate |
Today illustrated the spectrum of resources in Zambian education. We visited the American International School and got to see how the children of the wealthy get educated in Zambia. The disparity between the privately funded American Int’l School and what we witnessed in the government funded Special Needs Resource Center is staggering. The truth is, I know this is no different from a similar spectrum in the United States where we, also, have a staggering disparity between the schools for children of the wealthy and those who have the very lowest government funding for education. Just because we have a similar situation, though, does not make it okay.
The American International School was a dream come true. The resources! I admit I was enchanted by every school supply, every classroom, every teacher, the student work, and the environment of AIS. Each room was filled with inquiry-based centers, naturally sourced manipulatives, play centers, BOOKS, alternative seating, open floor plans, beautiful learning furniture, warm and inviting rugs, reading nooks, and technology. With every step we took deeper into this education Wonderland, I fell in love with the dream of what a school could be. The Art Teacher spoke with us, showing off his astounding art studio classroom. More supplies than I could dream of for an art classroom! The space was bright and organized with plenty of space to work. He had two boards filled with how his lessons corresponded with what the children were learning in other subjects. This is something I always did in Room 123 – make our art and crafts projects coincide with books, lessons, seasons, and holidays, as a form of enrichment. To see a Specials Teacher (art/music/phys. ed) do the same as part of his curriculum was a tiny bit mind-blowing for me. He spoke to us about recent art projects where the children took technology “trash” (old cell phones, game controllers, batteries, etc.) and turned them into “electrical assemblage” robot animals. Likewise, the living creatures constructed from trash like toothpaste tubes and spray bottles, or out of things found in nature like the spider that was assembled with sticks, seed casings and twigs. They were incredible! I loved listening to this teacher talk so passionately about his art program. He was an artist with a private studio whose day job was being an art teacher in this wondrous school. I wanted to go to school here myself. I wanted to TEACH here. …I wanted every child I’d ever known to have the opportunity to go to a school exactly like this. That thought nagged at me, triggering a thought that didn’t fully develop until evening when I’d had time to reflect. I’ve literally never seen a school like this. I’m positive there are schools like this in the States, probably right in Buffalo, but I haven’t seen them personally. What if all schools WERE like this one? What if THIS is what education looked like around the globe? What if THIS was the Universal?? As the day progressed, I had the opportunity to observe lessons and connect with the ENL teacher (English as a New Language). This teacher was an American “ex-pat” of 8 years. She and her husband ended up staying in Zambia and she loves teaching here, with little intention of going back to the States. I found myself wondering if I could do that. If I wasn’t so connected to my grown children and my parents, yes, I would consider doing what this woman was doing. I also got to sit in a Grade 2 classroom, talking at length with the teacher, Andrea Mwulala, the only Zambian teacher with whom I met at AIS. She’d taught in multiple countries, living in Slovenia, Scotland, Tanzania, Kenya, and Cambodia, returning to Zambia to retire, and to open an NGO, Twende Education for All, dedicated to developing education/schools for children suffering from cancer and sickle cell hemophilia. She shared with me her devotion to this pet project. I wanted to talk to this woman forever. Already she’d welcomed me into her classroom (which I’d wanted to observe because I wanted to compare Grade 2 here with my extensive 2nd grade experience in WNY). I’d observed her gentle teaching but firm control of the classroom. I’d talked with her about her teaching philosophy and the challenge of literacy with pupils who did not speak English as their first language. She shared a brilliant thought on why she does not allow erasers in her classroom – so her pupils can witness their own growth when comparing work early in a unit or the school year, with their work at the end of a unit or school year. Her utilization of colored pencils for the children to make corrections, and simply striking out the incorrect word or thought with a simple line, then writing their correction seemed ingenius to me. It’ss something I plan to implement in my future classrooms. Those things alone made talking with Ms. Mwulala a gift. But then hearing about Twende Education for All, I couldn’t believe my ears. Look at this woman giving and giving to her country. She said she came back to Zambia to retire, but now she needed to help fund her new endeavor, and so she took this position at AIS. I wanted to learn more. I wanted to work side by side with this woman. She’s the epitome of a critical thinker and a problem solver. I was inspired and galvanized by Ms.Mwulala. She’d told me to call her Andrea, but I already had far too much respect for her to do so. I also got to sit in on Kindergarten Math Centers with a lovely teacher from New Zealand and her assistant teacher, a gentle man from South Africa. As I chatted with the children, most with charming accents from Australia, France, the U.K. and Canada, I played with math manipulatives alongside them. I moved from center to center to see how these Kindergarten Math Centers were run and what content they were learning. It was fairly similar to what I experienced in WNY in a first-grade classroom. Their math skills were advanced, I thought. I was blown away by their writing samples! The neatness and the ideas were on a mid-2nd grade level. The spelling (very phonetic) was easily commiserate with the end of first grade writing. My initial thought was that these children were gifted, but immediately upon thinking that thought, I knew I was off-track. I had too much to absorb at this wonderful school to ruminate further on this, but I was able to pick up the thread of this thinking during our bus ride back to Twangale Park. We’d gotten into the habit of going around and giving a brief comment on our emotions on whatever we’d just experienced that day while riding back on the bus. Most were gushing about how amazing AIS had been. Many of my cohorts were effusive about how smart and advanced the students were at AIS. Then Daeyana said she was (I’m paraphrasing here) upset and a little angry at the extreme advantage of AIS compared with other schools in Zambia. Yes! That was exactly the thread of thought for which I hadn’t yet found words to match my emotions. Disparity. As others contributed their brief thoughts to our bus conversation, more words began swirling into my thought process: resources, advantages, potential, and opportunity. The children at AIS weren’t more smart/intellectual/advanced than the average Zambian child. They simply had more advantages, beginning with the mere fact of class size, which was generally less than 20 students in each AIS classroom. In addition, I noticed that most of the teachers at AIS were from a different country, and that most of the Zambian born adults were support staff. There was also a dearth in children of color at AIS, with upwards of 80% of the population being Caucasian. The director spoke of a very minor number of scholarships to this school. Judging from the Kindergarten and Grade 2 writing samples I’d seen, the children of these wealthy parents had the opportunity to see various countries and travel throughout Zambia to Victoria Falls and other cultural places. These parents had time to spend with their children doing homework, reading, doing enrichment. These parents had financial means allowing them the gift of quality time with their children. On the opposite end of the spectrum, were children who attended government funded schools where class size ranged from 50-100 pupils in a single classroom. These less fortunate children were often left in charge of younger siblings even if their age was only 8, 6, or even 5 years old. We’d seen this every single day as we drove through the streets of Lusaka, teeming with parents trying to eke out a living selling oranges, avocados, or charcoal balanced on their heads, weaving through traffic in search of consumers for their product. These parents were too busy trying to provide food and shelter for their children to have time to worry about their education. There were simply two totally different worlds of economy, influencing nearly every aspect of parenting, and it would obviously affect most children. The bottom line is this; virtually every child in the world is born with the same potential. The simple difference is opportunity. You can read more about the NGO Twende Education for All here: https://rivaltimes.com/the-little-school-of-andrea-mwalula-a-smile-in-the-abyss-of-childhood-cancer-in-africa/ https://blogs.ibo.org/2018/03/29/providing-schooling-for-students-in-hospital/ https://globalpressjournal.com/africa/zambia/zambia-children-cancer-cant-attend-class-classroom-comes/
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As a former teacher aide with 7+ years’ experience in a self-contained Special Education 8:1:1 classroom, specializing primarily in students with autism, I was very excited to go to the UNZA Special Needs Education Resource Center. I love the SpEd community and I was eager to see the education setting for SpEd in Zambia. I found a warm and welcoming, dare I say progressive, school. Despite the very small classrooms, I appreciated how they did so much with so few resources. I could feel the love in that Resource Center and it energized me. Before touring the school, we were treated to a wonderful interactive meeting with Special Education students from the University of Zambia. In addition to some genuinely fun break-the-ice/getting-to-know-you activities, the university students also shared their reasons for pursuing a Special Education Teaching degree. Although the reasons varied slightly, the resounding reason always came back to educating others in Zambia about the reality of people with special needs and eradicating the stigma that follows this population. I was saddened to learn that many Zambians view physical/mental/emotional disabilities as a curse on the family. Some even lump asthma into this category, shying away from people with asthma after witnessing an asthma attack. How can this be, I thought to myself. Each one of the students spoke passionately. I understood their desire to dispel the myths and help this population. I was grateful Zambia had students such as those in this room, who were passionate about helping and wanted to make a difference. Once we began our tour, I ended up in a room whose population was exactly what I was accustomed to working with in good old Room 123 in the Kenmore-Town of Tonawanda School District. This was the first, or entry, class, and the primary goals in this room was for pupils to learn the routines and to follow directions. I have walked in their shoes where this is concerned. With only 3 children, ages 5-6 years old, I immediately felt at home, reminded of some of my favorite students over the years in Room 123. As I observed, along with a couple of my cohorts, I noticed familiar things in this classroom: a poster with numbers up to 20, the days of the week/months of the year, color names. The room was brightly painted, there were a few very utilitarian wooden desks with attached chairs, a white board on the wall, and there was a small area for what I would consider “circle time” or “morning meeting”. Within minutes I realized I was totally relaxed (a sensation I hadn’t yet enjoyed in Zambia). The posted classroom rules were remarkably similar to our classroom rules, with “Listening Bodies to listen and follow directions, Raised Hands, Walking Feet, and Helping Hands to help not hurt”. In this small, sparse, but warm classroom, I was utterly at home. These were my people. The children and the teachers. This was my community, regardless of the country. I found myself at ease as I chatted with the head teacher. We found common ground in the behavior of the students and routine of the classroom. I asked questions about their day. I explained a few things that were similar to my former SpEd room and classes in the States, and we discussed some differences. I longed to sit down and interact with the children, but I also knew how disruptive this is for most of these children. I can remember many times we had visitors in our classroom and even when the children were well-behaved, the aftermath would be challenging for them. Many times, Christine, the teacher with whom I worked, and I would think, “noooo, please do not continue talking to _____. Can’t you see his body language is telling you he’s uncomfortable with this interaction??” I didn’t want to be the cause of that discomfort in this classroom, where we’d been so graciously welcomed. I verbalized my thinking to the teacher and she agreed with me, appearing relieved that I “got it”. In fact, after I said that, she seemed even more open to us discussing ideas. We’d found common ground. I loved that! Aside from all this warmth and love, the thing that really hit home for me is the lack of resources this school had. The rooms were incredibly small – yet they had everything that was absolutely necessary. This classroom was lacking the sensory materials Christine and I took for granted: our sensory bins of dried beans and peas with some plastic animals, dried pasta with foam shapes or letters, fluffy pompoms, sand. This classroom lacked bins upon colorful bins of books, comfy pillows and “stuffies”, and a colorful rug on which to read. This room lacked the plastic manipulatives to learn to tell time, count money, and do other math lessons. No Smart Board. No centers. No bins of toys for free time, or learning toys, like Legos, blocks, and puzzles, to improve fine motor skills. This room compensated in the colorful way it was painted, and in making the most of the things they had. The teachers had made this room warm and welcoming with their own artwork and writing on the walls, save the one poster that was printed. The notebooks I saw the children writing in were slim and only 5”x7”, with thin covers that reminded me of the 1950s. If I’m being honest, a lot of what was happening in this classroom reminded me of Special Education in the 1970s here in the United States. It seemed the attitude toward the Special Needs Community and the resources echoed where the U.S. was over forty years ago. It was reminiscent of when I went to elementary school in the late 70s and early 80s. I thought back to 3 peers usually in my class in my small neighborhood elementary school. James, Patrick, and Sarah went to Resource Room regularly. Looking back, I realize each of them had academic and socio-emotional challenges. When I was in elementary school teachers had little patience for these students, and even at ages 7-10, I knew this was wrong. I would finish my classwork and then try to surreptitiously help Sarah so she could participate with us during Recess, rather than sit with the teacher finishing work. I wanted her to be able to play on the playground with us instead of struggling and being openly shamed that she “didn’t finish her work again”. The public shaming of these students for being unable “to keep up” made me sick to my stomach as a child, and in retrospect, greatly saddens me. It is one of many contributing factors that lead me to Special Education. Upon leaving the Special Needs Resource Center, I was left with a full heart. The people who worked here were doing their best to lift up this community academically and emotionally. After connecting with the university students pursuing their degree in Special Education, I was hopeful for the future of SpEd in Zambia. Every journey begins with the first few steps, and I believe with the passion of these students and how far education has come in Zambia in the last several years, SpEd is well on its way to positive expansion. In the meantime, the government funded Special Needs Resource Center is chugging along like the Little Engine That Could of Zambia’s Education System. I think it can, I think it can. It is already a success story. Upon arriving at University of Zambia, we stepped out of our bus in our ‘Sunday Best’ hoping to be respectful, modest, and put our best foot forward in representing Buffalo State University. How warmly we were greeted! We were met by an UnZa contingent headed by Dr. Mkandwire. We were ushered up several flights of stairs, past curious but friendly onlookers, to a long, sunny, austere lecture room with equally long tables. This is where our learning began. After brief introductions around the table, Dr. M. and his colleague began teaching us about education in Zambia from the Zambian Educator’s perspective. The room was charged with anticipation. We were sponges, soaking up every drop of information. The room overflowed with gratitude all around the table; we were so grateful to be welcomed into this educational experience, and the members of UnZa appeared pleased we were so interested in the education system of their country. I loved the pride in the lilting cadence of their voices as they explained how far education had come since 2021. Next, we were ushered into a rich, stately room, overflowing with concentric rows of heavy, solid wood tables and chairs, lending it a stately effect. As it turned out, this was the room utilized by the Senate when they met. Hearing that made us all sit just a little taller in our seats, I think. The Dean of Education and the interim Vice-Chancellor met with us, taking the head table with Dr. Hashey and Mrs. Lavin joining them. Dr. M. sat at the long tables with us. Once again, there were brief introductions. Then something amazing happened; the Vice-Chancellor was so earnest and awed that we had come all this way to learn from them and experience the Zambian education, that somehow it felt as if our humble cohort from Buff State was being treated as Ambassadors of Education. I think this moment set the tone for our whole trip. We hoped we’d be up to the task. Finally, we were treated to a tour of their Library, which looked remarkably like our own Butler Library at Buffalo State University. The outside architecture was uncannily similar. We filed in, immediately realizing how unbelievably quiet and somber this library was. Back home, our library is the furthest thing from quiet. It is a social place, a hive of Buff State students buzzing about. Our library back home boasts a Starbucks and plenty of comfortable seating, as well as vending machines. Unless I sit in a designated quiet study room at Butler, I cannot concentrate due to the noise in our library. Conversely, this quiet library was filled, FILLED, with hundreds of students occupying nearly every chair, every desk, every possible space in which you could sit. As we wound around the library, slowly escalating floors, past row upon row of book lined shelves, very few students bothered to look up from their studies. As we learned later in our library tour, the students were only allowed 2-1/2 hours/week with the online textbooks, so I’m sure they didn’t want to waste a moment of their time. This is the main lesson I brought home with me today: education is a serious subject in Zambia, especially in the last several years. Education is not taken for granted. These students are serious about their learning, giving their education great value, and the Zambian educators are serious about elevating the education experience throughout their country. Judging from the data that was shared with us today, I’d say Zambia has a lot to be proud of. I’m so eager to explore the schools we have lined up on our itinerary and see this in action. Time is fluid here in Zambia; it stretches like taffy, somehow allowing us more hours per day to do things than I typically feel I have at home. At the end of our 2nd day we were all remarking at dinner how it seemed we’d been here nearly a week already, and yet, it was a mere 48 hours. I’m grateful for the false sense of extra time. The 20+ hours it took us to get here was nothing to sneeze at. While the first flight, over 13 hours from Toronto to Ethiopia, did not seem too long, getting back on a plane for an additional 4 hours from Ethiopia to Zambia was a little harder to swallow. Especially since the 2nd flight was quite full and didn’t award us the luxury of extra seats and plenty of space to stretch out as the previous flight had. It was so exciting getting off the plane and waiting in line at customs with my brand-new passport in hand. I can’t believe that the very first stamp I’m getting in my passport is Zambia! I walked away from the counter grinning ear to ear. It’s HAPPENING, I thought, I’m IN Zambia!!! We stopped at a grocery store where we loaded up on bottled water, some fruit and snacks. The store was remarkably clean and bright, with colorful labels on unfamiliar foods. The condiments seemed exotic, the snack aisle was so colorful and foreign it took on a carnival atmosphere. I reached for a small bag of popcorn, similar to Pirate’s Booty at home. The flavor was “Chakalaka”. I scanned the package for more clues to what “Chakalaka” flavor could possibly be, to no avail. I’m here to tell you I want all my Pirate’s Booty to be “Chakalaka flavored from now on, because I can’t get enough of that peppery, cheesy goodness. Standing in line at the cash register I wondered how much it would cost and handed over my colorful Kwacha, having little idea how much my small bag of groceries and 12 pack of water had just cost me in U.S. dollars. 267 Kwacha seemed an extraordinary amount for my small bag! Now, several days later, I’m more adept at converting my Kwacha; approximately 5 cents on the American dollar. The welcome at Twangale Park was warm and we disappeared into our beautiful rooms to unpack and regroup for dinner. We were relieved, eager, tired from travel, hungry, and so excited. Even though we’d just spent the last 24+ hours together during travel, we weren’t really together. Sitting at the long dinner table in the restaurant at Twangale felt a little like sitting down to a family dinner. This moment for which we’d spent many months hoping, planning, studying, fundraising, conferring, ordering, and packing, had finally arrived. Our dinner had a celebratory air. We ate the delicious food and drank some Zambian drinks. We were so tired, but also energized at the prospect that we were here. We’re HERE! We were reluctant to retreat to our rooms to finish unpacking and sleep. Perhaps we were a little afraid this was all a dream. If it’s a dream, then please turn off the alarm because we haven’t gotten to the good part yet. It’s happening! I’m packing for a trip I never in my wildest dreams believed would come true. I’m going to a different continent, and I get to immerse myself in a different land, a different culture, and, on top of that, I get to TEACH! I’m bursting with excitement. I’m shocked that I’m not nervous. I’m surprised that I’m not anxious. I’m simply overwhelmed with the blessing of this great opportunity. The first thing I packed was my suitcase of donations for Libala Primary. On Monday when we divvied up the school supplies between our suitcases, it felt like Christmas morning to me. I’m a huge fan of school supplies on any given day, but the thought of bringing these supplies to a school that needs them is fulfilling. A few months ago, I read in some other intrepid traveler’s blog, that the children in a Zambian classroom were using their teeth or fingernails to sharpen their pencils. I can’t fully convey to you how the thought of that hurt my heart. At the time I was Student Teaching in a 2nd grade classroom of sweet children, most of whom wanted for nothing. The next day I told them about what I’d read. Their little faces looked pained at the news. I saw, reflected in their eyes, the same empathy I’d felt upon reading that sad little tidbit. Later that day, Penelope asked me, “Mrs. Kluge, are you going to Zambia so you can help those kids?” “No,” I replied, “I’m going to Zambia so I get to experience their culture. Just like when Mahdiya taught us about Ramadan, I’m going to learn what school is like in Zambia and they are letting me have the opportunity to teach them. I get to learn just as much from them as they might learn from what I teach them.” “Then why are you bringing them pencils and pencil sharpeners?” she asked, perplexed. “Because when you are a guest in someone else’s house, you’re supposed to bring a gift. If I came to your house for dinner, I might bring dessert or some chocolates for your mom. If you spent the weekend at my house, you might bring me flowers or some pretty soap for my bathroom. That’s how you say, ‘thank you for inviting me’. When I go to Zambia, I’ll be a guest at their school, so it’s polite for me to bring a gift to say, ‘thank you for inviting me’ and since they need some pencil sharpeners, we’ve decided to bring that to them.” Penelope’s face bloomed with her sweet smile. “That’s a great idea!” Now I am organizing dozens of slim boxes of colored pencils, along with Wipe-off sleeves (lighter and more versatile than bulky White Boards) and a couple hundred Dry Erase Markers into my “donation suitcase”. I love how it looks. I keep thinking about the piles of Composition Notebooks and Post-Its, the pencils and crayons, the deflated balls, all filling the suitcases of my cohorts. In just 29 hours I will be boarding the plane to Zambia with my 2 suitcases (under the 50 pound weight limit) and my plum colored carry-on backpack (pushing to within a few ounces of the 15 pound limit for carry-ons). Despite multiple detailed check-lists, I fret that I may have forgotten something. I doubt there is a Target or a Walgreens that I can scoot to if I’ve forgotten anything important. I’m eager to get to the morning so I can start this amazing adventure. I hope I can sleep tonight. |
AuthorHi! I’m a mom to 3 boys (all in their 20s now) and graduated this May 2023 with my Childhood Education degree. I’m thrilled to be going to Lusaka, Zambia to teach at Libala Primary. As a life-long learner, I’m eager to learn about the culture and education system in Zambia, where I’m certain I’ll be learning far more than I can possibly teach. I can’t wait to bring a little Buffalo, NY to Lusaka, and then take a little Lusaka back to my future classroom in Buffalo, NY! ArchivesCategories |