"Many here do not have the basics in academics as most were never enrolled or allowed in the mainstream education system. Most are not even able to write their names. Could
you teach some to write their names so they can sign their
monthly wage slips? A daunting task?"
I spent no
less than 4 hours with this big guy today, as we sat down to write his name :
Jia Yung. We never got past "J". The abovementioned daunting task, amplified by the
words of head of the centre ("many have tried teaching him and have given
up, discouraged") seemed like a challenge - and so we flipped page
after page of his worn-out notebook, trying to get the letter right. I decided
to stop teaching only when he gave up trying - and we kept going, because he
never stopped trying.
For hours,
Jia Yung learnt and re-learnt those 3 strokes that form the first letter of his
name. We advanced from tracing 12 dots to 6, to just 2, and occasionally we would try
writing it without any dots, but the outcome was never always a perfect "J".
At times, the letter was a singular downward stroke; at times, he made his own
versions of the letter. He would laugh when that happened, and then he'd go
back to trying the real "J" again, unperturbed by his forgetfulness
and failure. Now and then when he got it right, the smile of achievement beamed
on his face, if only for a moment before he had to re-learn the letter again.
I wish I
could say we finally got it right, but we didn't. This sort of task would take
months to master and requires a teacher who would sit with him every day for
the next 6 months, drilling into him those 3 strokes: "straight
line…down…up!" (my utmost respect is for the full-time volunteers here). Yet despite the seemingly insurmountable task, each try
always began with rigour, determination; he never stopped wanting to get it
right. Jia Yung didn't write his name in his exercise book today, but he will some
day, because he knows it.
