A Walk In The Slums (pt. 2)

This is a continuation of the blog that I wrote last week.

The few positive responses that I got from parents who were willing to send their children to school were touching. I was struck by a particular man’s gratitude of us spending time to better his community. It seemed as if he immediately became motivated by our presence to send his children to school, as he promptly called them over and instructed them to come with us to follow us back to the school. Perhaps it was the fact that we were from America, or perhaps it was the fact that we would teach English (the school is a Telugu-medium school), or perhaps it was even the fact that someone actually bothered to care about the future of his children, but irrespective of the reason, it was evident for all to see the drastic change that had come over this parent.

Before we left the slums to go back to the school, I restated to the man the question that I had presented to the other adults: why were their children currently not in school? Unlike the other parents, however, this one had a reply. His children were initially enrolled in the school, but the school was effectively run as a daycare and he could not afford to pay the nominal fee of Rs. 330 (approximately $5) for this service. His words were true: the school consisted of over 70 children but was manned by a grand total of one staff member — a sole teacher who also served as the school’s principal. Overwhelmed by administrative duties, the teacher rarely had time to teach, reducing the school to nothing more than a poorly-run daycare.

Such were (are) the state of affairs.

Over the course of the next few days, I pondered about the course of events that I encountered during my short time in the slums. While it wasn’t an eye-opening experience, it was definitely one that gave me a reality check. I was left with several unanswered questions: Why were some parents so resigned to the fact that their children might never escape from the circle of poverty? Why did the children themselves not have any motivation to attend school? Is there really such a disparity of wealth within the slum itself, such that some can “afford” television whereas others can’t even pay a small fee for their children to attend school?

Questions, questions. Everywhere I turn, there are new questions to be answered. Why are some of the children absolutely disinclined to learn while others are so eager? How can I teach the children when they are famished and haven’t had a morsel to eat for hours? Are the children who appear dejected subject to domestic violence or sexual abuse at home?

Questions that I can only pray will be answered.