In exactly a week I will be headed back to Sofia for my final close of service activities - mostly signing off on documents. However, this is also a time for reflection. I filled out my final Volunteer Report Form and my Description of Service recently, and this has put into numerical terms (no easy task) the things I have done here. It is exceptionally hard to number what I have done here. The Peace Corps has told us since day 1 that, as youth development volunteers, we will most likely not see most of the fruits of our labor.
That is especially true with my work at the Detski Yasli (Preschool) here in Preslav. My last day at the Yasli was today, and it was representative of my entire experience there. The children there can call me by name (Bati Greg - "Brother Greg"), and are excited when I play with them and spend time teaching them basic skills. However, when I leave it is as though I am a non-person. The children do not need me there, and yet I still have had some sort of impact on their development.
Youth development, by nature, is a very vague and immaterial assignment. We YD volunteers often joke about "developing the youth," as if that were a concrete and specific task to achieve. In reality, we just do what we think is best for the children. In this country, there is a severe lack of motivation among child care workers. Many times people are employed at child care institutions because it is available and "easy" work, rather than out of a sincere desire to work with the children. For these workers, "developing the youth" is often the last thing on their mind, which makes our work all the more frustrating.
At the Yasli, this was especially evident. With a background in child development I was eager to teach the children there some basic reading skills and some other things. The employees all but laughed at me the first time I brought the subject up, telling me that since they are so little they can not achieve or learn anything. In fact, it is at this stage of development at which the foundations of development are formed, making this time one of the most vital stages in a child's life. I have had some success in teaching basic skills to the children there - namely teaching the children how to count and in some social skills. It was when I started doing this that the staff perhaps realized that spending the time to teach the youngest children (rather than simply watch them) might have a positive impact.
In my opinion this is what youth development is really all about. Not only are we assigned to help the youth, but also to help develop the capacity of the people who work at these institutions. A large part of my work here is uncountable, since it is mainly in just having conversations with people about the abilities and strengths of the children I work with. Even a chance encounter with a neighbor is a "youth development activity," as the subject of the children I work with is inevitably a topic of discussion. People are often surprised when I tell them about how a preschooler I work with can count to ten and sing the alphabet. They are similarly surprised when I tell them that not all the kids I work with at the orphanage are criminals, and are in fact very nice children who perform well in school.
Much of my last week here at the orphanage will be spent in the same way I have been spending my time throughout the past 2 years. I will still be convincing the community members and staff that the children are capable of achieving wonderful things. This is evident in that I was able to teach several illiterate children (some as old as 5th grade) how to read and write, or how to do basic math - something that was never a focus before. Now, some of the orphanage workers have started working with the children one on one to catch them up. It is this achievement that I am most proud of, but the one that is hardest to describe in words and numbers. How do you put in numbers the fact that because of your work, some people might have a more positive view of at risk children and may be more willing to work with them?
I will post my Description of Service here later in order to try to show what I have done here to you all, but really they are just words. I cannot put into words the feelings I have had here and the things I have learned. How do you express in words the feeling when a child says, "You are like a father to me." This coming from a 10 year old child who hasn't seen his father in 5 years, and to a guy who has never had any parenting experience outside of a class in college. I can't tell you the emotions I went through when he told me that. The same day, another boy spit on me and threw walnuts at my face. It is because of this that I have such a hard time talking about my time here.
Perhaps someday I will be able to sort it all out, but for now all I have is the memories. I am forever a changed man for having experienced what I did here. I can only hope that I have been a positive force in the kids' lives.
Sorry that this has been a somewhat jumbled and disjointed post. As you can tell there has been a lot on my mind as I wrap up my service. I hope to write a more cohesive post soon.
Showing posts with label Yasli. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Yasli. Show all posts
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
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…
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…
Friday, December 12, 2008
Detski Yasli
Up until this point, I’ve spoken very little about my second assignment here in Bulgaria. This is due to a number of factors, including the fact that I couldn’t actually work there until I had a Bulgarian health card, which in turn required me to have Bulgarian residency, which I now have. Also, the work at the orphanage has been very engaging and challenging, which has caused me to spend a lot more time not only at the orphanage itself, but also working on things to do there when I’m not actually there. Regardless, I still feel that my time at the Yasli is important, and that the children there can benefit from my being there every morning.
The first thing I figured I would try to do was to get more one on one interaction with the kids, since the simple act of even speaking to children at this age can be a valuable developmental tool. For example, the simplest babbling is a sign that the child is trying to distinguish the correct sounds and rules of language for use later. With the younger kids, what I’ve been doing is simply playing with the children and looking for signs of emerging language and trying to encourage it. I reply with actual Bulgarian, and they try to repeat it, and the cycle continues until they get distracted or bored. With the children who can speak already I've been trying to encourage longer conversations and counting. I also help out with the discipline side of things, and also with first aid if needed. I figure this is about the extent to which I can go at this point, but even so it’s better than nothing.
People who work with children here in Bulgaria have very skeptical views about the abilities of the children they work with. Whereas we in America are raised with a very “can do” spirit, and early development is encouraged (i.e. learning numbers and pushing literacy), it seems that people here in Bulgaria figure that children cannot learn anything until they are enrolled in school. This couldn’t be further from the truth, and from what we are taught seems quite backwards. I asked if maybe I could make a circle with the kids at the Yasli and try teaching numbers or letters, or at least basic sounds. I was basically laughed at and told that they don’t know anything yet. After that, I was informed that children here don’t learn the alphabet until first grade, which was a bit shocking to me. It is this lack of confidence in children that has continually been the bane of my existence here in Bulgaria, and is a constant source of frustration in both of my places of work. At the Yasli, there is no confidence that children can learn anything at such a young age. At the orphanage, there is no confidence that the children can rise out of their at-risk state and eventually do something great with their lives.
Without an emphasis in strengthening the abilities of your children, what kind of investment are you making in the future of your country?
Then again, that’s one of the things that the Peace Corps is here to address. Again, it seems after reading this post again that I sound pretty negative, but I really am pretty hopeful that I can do something here… at least begin to start to instill some confidence in these children, and emphasize the importance of this early and critical stage of life. The staff is very friendly and open to me in both places, and they are great people with a lot of heart. However, the challenge comes in working with the culture - suggesting without criticizing and observing without looking down upon. I am, after all, a "very young boy" myself, as my coworkers tell me almost every day...
Perhaps eventually I’ll be able to get some more coordinated activities with the kids there, but, as with the orphanage, I am still trying to gain the trust and respect of the staff at this point. When my Bulgarian gets a bit better, I hope to also maybe get a parent’s group together. Though I don’t have any parenting experience, it might be good to coordinate some kind of forum where they can get together and talk. Things are still hazy on that front right now. Just wanted to share a bit of a different side of what I do here in Preslav with you all.
Until next time…
The closest American counterpart to the Bulgarian Yasli would probably be what we call preschool, though there are also elements of a nursery in there. The children’s ages range from 1 to 4 (though most are 2-3). This short span is a time during which many complex and important developmental goals are accomplished, making the Yasli a pretty important place. The difference between the Bulgarian preschool and the American version, like so many other places here, lies in the staff’s interactions with the children. Here, there is a much more hands-off policy when working with children, and the Yasli is no different. In my first few days I observed that that the staff’s role was mainly physical care of the children (feeding, changing diapers, etc.), while there were little to no coordinated activities. The children are mainly just given a pile of toys, and left alone for a while.
The first thing I figured I would try to do was to get more one on one interaction with the kids, since the simple act of even speaking to children at this age can be a valuable developmental tool. For example, the simplest babbling is a sign that the child is trying to distinguish the correct sounds and rules of language for use later. With the younger kids, what I’ve been doing is simply playing with the children and looking for signs of emerging language and trying to encourage it. I reply with actual Bulgarian, and they try to repeat it, and the cycle continues until they get distracted or bored. With the children who can speak already I've been trying to encourage longer conversations and counting. I also help out with the discipline side of things, and also with first aid if needed. I figure this is about the extent to which I can go at this point, but even so it’s better than nothing.
People who work with children here in Bulgaria have very skeptical views about the abilities of the children they work with. Whereas we in America are raised with a very “can do” spirit, and early development is encouraged (i.e. learning numbers and pushing literacy), it seems that people here in Bulgaria figure that children cannot learn anything until they are enrolled in school. This couldn’t be further from the truth, and from what we are taught seems quite backwards. I asked if maybe I could make a circle with the kids at the Yasli and try teaching numbers or letters, or at least basic sounds. I was basically laughed at and told that they don’t know anything yet. After that, I was informed that children here don’t learn the alphabet until first grade, which was a bit shocking to me. It is this lack of confidence in children that has continually been the bane of my existence here in Bulgaria, and is a constant source of frustration in both of my places of work. At the Yasli, there is no confidence that children can learn anything at such a young age. At the orphanage, there is no confidence that the children can rise out of their at-risk state and eventually do something great with their lives. Without an emphasis in strengthening the abilities of your children, what kind of investment are you making in the future of your country?
Then again, that’s one of the things that the Peace Corps is here to address. Again, it seems after reading this post again that I sound pretty negative, but I really am pretty hopeful that I can do something here… at least begin to start to instill some confidence in these children, and emphasize the importance of this early and critical stage of life. The staff is very friendly and open to me in both places, and they are great people with a lot of heart. However, the challenge comes in working with the culture - suggesting without criticizing and observing without looking down upon. I am, after all, a "very young boy" myself, as my coworkers tell me almost every day...
Perhaps eventually I’ll be able to get some more coordinated activities with the kids there, but, as with the orphanage, I am still trying to gain the trust and respect of the staff at this point. When my Bulgarian gets a bit better, I hope to also maybe get a parent’s group together. Though I don’t have any parenting experience, it might be good to coordinate some kind of forum where they can get together and talk. Things are still hazy on that front right now. Just wanted to share a bit of a different side of what I do here in Preslav with you all.
Until next time…
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
Thanksgiving Bulgaria Style
Thanksgiving (ден на благодарност - den na blogodarnost - lit. "day of thankfulness") came and went without much fanfare in Veliki Preslav. People here have some idea of what it is after hearing from other volunteers about it, but it gets looked at kind of strangely from their point of view - "Day of Thankfulness? Turkey? football?" It doesn't quite come together the way we see it, which is a day to spend time with the family, and be thankful that we have people to lean on (in my opinion at least).
I didn't really do anything special the actual day of Thanksgiving. In fact, I had to go in to work since we volunteers don't get American holidays off. It was alright though... I baked up a batch of chocolate chip cookies (more like chocolate chunk, since they don't have chocolate chips here... ended up just smashing a few chocolate bars) and handed those out to the staff. I also explained some Thanksgiving traditions and did some art stuff for the kids. They were more interested in the Pilgrims and Indians part than the turkey and family part ("Did the indians kill the people afterward?" No... Yay for movies!). That night I made hashbrowns and eggs haha.
However, over that weekend, I was able to get some real Thanksgiving food and spend some time with friends and enjoy the holiday. Even though we were thousands of miles from home, we managed to come together as a great big dysfunctional family for Thanksgiving. Coming together was a challenge though, starting with a missed train and an overnight ride in an unheated cabin and ending with missing the bus stop and having to walk (more slipping on the ice than walking) back into the town where we were supposed to get out. It all came together eventually - well worth the missteps - and a good time was had by all.
Turkey was brought in from Sofia, potatoes were mashed, cakes and pies were consumed, football was watched. Something was brought by each of the 20 volunteers that were there, making for a legit Thanksgiving meal, and an great time with great friends.
In other news, I started at the preschool yesterday. Well... to call it a preschool is a bit of a stretch. The kids are 2 and 3 years old and completely ridiculous. It should be interesting to see what I can do with them. I'm not really sure why I was assigned to work there, but at least it gives me something to do in the morning... More to come on that later.
Until next time...
I didn't really do anything special the actual day of Thanksgiving. In fact, I had to go in to work since we volunteers don't get American holidays off. It was alright though... I baked up a batch of chocolate chip cookies (more like chocolate chunk, since they don't have chocolate chips here... ended up just smashing a few chocolate bars) and handed those out to the staff. I also explained some Thanksgiving traditions and did some art stuff for the kids. They were more interested in the Pilgrims and Indians part than the turkey and family part ("Did the indians kill the people afterward?" No... Yay for movies!). That night I made hashbrowns and eggs haha.
However, over that weekend, I was able to get some real Thanksgiving food and spend some time with friends and enjoy the holiday. Even though we were thousands of miles from home, we managed to come together as a great big dysfunctional family for Thanksgiving. Coming together was a challenge though, starting with a missed train and an overnight ride in an unheated cabin and ending with missing the bus stop and having to walk (more slipping on the ice than walking) back into the town where we were supposed to get out. It all came together eventually - well worth the missteps - and a good time was had by all.
Turkey was brought in from Sofia, potatoes were mashed, cakes and pies were consumed, football was watched. Something was brought by each of the 20 volunteers that were there, making for a legit Thanksgiving meal, and an great time with great friends.
In other news, I started at the preschool yesterday. Well... to call it a preschool is a bit of a stretch. The kids are 2 and 3 years old and completely ridiculous. It should be interesting to see what I can do with them. I'm not really sure why I was assigned to work there, but at least it gives me something to do in the morning... More to come on that later.
Until next time...
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