Slushat Li Detsata?

By far one of the most frequent questions I hear from people around town when the conversation inevitably shifts to working with children in any capacity is, “Do the children listen?”

Ever since I have arrived here at site I have heard this question at least once a week, and I wince a little every time I hear it. For a while I never understood why it got to me so much, but after a while I realized that this question (to me) epitomizes everything I find wrong with the system and methods of child care in this country. Now I’m not saying that there’s nothing good about child care in this country. Truth be told, I have met several great teachers and child care providers during my time here who are having a positive influence on the children they work for. However, when I hear Bulgarians every week telling me about how the school system is failing and how children have no interest in learning, it makes me think a little about why. The question reveals a lot...

The first problem is that the question addresses the concerns of the child care worker rather than the needs or even the problems of the child. This is reflected in the fact that often, the system of child care here is more concerned with itself or with its employees than with the children it works with. I cannot tell you how many times I have wondered exactly how many people here are working with children because they have to, or because they want to. Thus the question transforms a potential shortcoming of the worker into the fault of the child. I have heard stories of when children are dancing on tables in class ending in, “Ne slushat” – “They are not listening.” OK… what have you done, or what are you going to do to address this? Are the children unruly in class because they aren’t listeners, or because your classroom management skills are lacking? What is the punishment or the incentive to behave? More often than not, there isn’t one.

The second problem is that the question is really meaningless. It doesn’t address anything. Or rather, it addresses so many different things that it loses its meaning. I have heard the question used to ask: “Are the children well-behaved?”, “Do they pay attention to you?”, and even, “Turkish and Roma kids can do things?” When can you tell if the children are “listening” if the question itself isn't even consistent? Many times, the question doesn’t refer to discipline, but also the overall behavior of the child. For example, you may hear in response to a child at the Yasli who won’t stop crying, “Ne slusha” – “He/she is not listening.” Is this a case of a 2 year old refusing to pay attention to you, or is it a common reaction to being away from parents?

Sometimes the question even refers to the abilities of the children. At the orphanage I hear stories about kids who are slacking off in class ending in, “ne slushat” (They don’t listen). Though this should be the topic of another post, it is this situation that is perhaps most frustrating for me. I hear the question posed like this all too often in reference to the kids at the orphanage, many of which have been moved through the system without learning how to count or read. Are they not interested in class, or are they not participating because they can't understand what you're teaching and don't have a way to catch up? Or is it because they can't afford the textbooks you're using in class? Or is it because most of the people in town have given up on them and treat them as criminals or mentally challenged? Perhaps simply saying they aren’t listening is easier than acknowledging the shortcomings of the system.

My answer to the question has usually attempted either some clarification, or just “Yes, they listen.” This often prompts some surprise on the part of the asker, either because they aren’t used to have a question directed back at them in response, or because the expected answer is always “no.” When I proudly tell people around town that my kids are great - the children at the orphanage who can’t read or have had behavior problems, the little boy at the Yasli who cries for hours because he misses his mommy, the group of kids I pass by every day who hang out and pretend to build houses out of sticks instead of going home after school – I get looks of bewilderment, or the look that says, “Yeah, right.”

Sometimes I just want to say to them… “The kids are listening. Are you?”

Until next time…