Sometimes - a lot of the time - I struggle to say no. It's just so direct, and decisive, and potentially disappointing to others - things I would rather aviod. Things that make me uncomfortable.
As petty as this may sound, I felt really conflicted and put a lot of energy into who I would pick next for "Duck, duck, goose" with a group of kids in the Transkei. Prudence (a JAM team member from Mavhuza) and Lexi (a girl from the US currently working with Oceans of Mercy in Alexandria) and I were trying to keep the younger kids occupied during a soccer tournament, and they caught on to the game really quickly. And of course the desire to be picked is universal - as I was wracking my brain to figure out who hadn't had a turn recently, those who could speak English were shouting, "Sisi, pick me, please!" and many other were wildly waving their hands (Sisi is "sister" in Xhosa). It's amazing how much significance "Goose!" can have when it means that you were selected, even if it is just to run around a circle. It was more important to me to pick someone who hadn't had a turn in a while, but I still felt crummy for passing over so many eager kids.
I know, it's "Duck, duck goose!" I cannot possibly pick every kid, and that's fine. Most or all of the eager kids I passed over still got another turn at some point. The important part is that Prudence and Lexi and I showed the kids that we do care about them by giving them our time. And honestly, my inner turmoil over "Duck, duck, goose" did not linger beyond the day of the soccer tournament. But I still struggle to deny any kind of attention to the kids I interact with each week in the townships of Hout Bay and Sir Lowry's Pass.
A lot of the kids in Sir Lowry's Pass really like being picked up. "Tannie, lift me up!" they say, the minute we reach the field outside the police station ("Tannie" is like "Aunty" in Afrikaans - I'm not really old enough to be called Tannie, but when you're a kid it doesn't make much difference). I might seem like an altruistic Superwoman when I pick up three kids at a time (one on each hip and one on my back - they don't stay for long, but they fit), but I'm actually being selfish. Instead of thinking about what's best for the kids in the long run (learning to wait their turn, etc.), I'm choosing to put my own (emotional) comfort first. It's easier for me to just try to appease them all instead of say to each individual, "Not now, you can have a turn next," or "No, you've already had a turn."
Unfortunately, I did not realize how selfish I was being until two Wednesdays ago, when four or five kids from Sir Lowry's were climbing all over me (because I didn't say, "No" to any of them) and a couple fell off and got hurt. Thankfully they didn't fall far and we were on the grass - they each cried for less than a minute and then they were fine. But the fact that kids got hurt because I didn't have the backbone to tell some of them, "No," or even, "Not yet," really disturbed me, enough to want to change. The following Monday I talked to Ashley, who is on staff with JAM and has worked with the kids in Hout Bay and Sir Lowry's for several years. For times when it is simply not possible to satisfy every kid's request, she recommended being able to call them by name. That way they know that even if I cannot pick them up or hold their hand or spin them around at that moment, I still think of them as a special individual, not just "a Sir Lowry's kid" or "a Hout Bay kid." I am so thankful for Ashley's understanding and advice, because even though a lot of the motivation behind trying to appease everyone is selfish, I also don't want kids to feel completely left out or unfavored. It is really a challenge to keep everyone's names straight, but I am making progress, a couple of names at a time.
Last Monday in Hout Bay, Christopher hurt his foot on some glass, and I carried him around some. Cassidy was wearing her pretty blue jacket again, and Ashron gave me a hug before I left. I had to ask him his name again, but now it will stick. And, I even said, "No," to a little girl (unfortunately I didn't get her name - hopefully next week) when she asked me to pick her up, because I already had and it was someone else's turn. That Wednesday in Sir Lowry's I put in the energy to tell kids to wait their turn for "villey villey volley" (picking them up and spinning them around). At the end I still carried two kids across the train tracks (a boy named Apelele and a girl - maybe Lisa?), because neither of them had shoes and the gravel is really painful, and it was easy enough for me to hold on to both of them for a little while. So I don't feel the need to criticize myself for that one.
Slowly but surely, I'm letting go of my desire to remain comfortable by appeasing everyone. The names and faces of the precious children I see each week are finally starting to connect amidst the jumbled mess of Afrikaans and Xhosa greetings and Bible verses and math equations and everything else floating around my brain. God willing, I'll keep progressing in these areas and bring improved skills back with me to the US in November. I really think that combination is what my experience in this amazing country is all about - making a positive impact on the lives of youth here, and learning how to keep doing that in the lives of youth at home, in ministry and in the classroom.
No comments:
Post a Comment