I thought I had the best class – super nice kids, smart and enthusiastic… I mean, you couldn’t fault them, they were even good-looking for goodness sake! They were the perfect class… or so I thought. But then came the day when they shocked me to my very core. It was a day that changed the way I taught, the way I thought and, most importantly, what kind of people I wanted my students to become.
My day of revelation came when one of my older female students (year 7) stomped into the classroom, slammed her bag on the desk and declared “I HATE my pembantu!!!” (A pembantu is a maid/home helper).
I was immediately filled with concern. What terrible deed had this woman done to upset my student so much? Killed her puppy? Tortured this little girl for nothing? Run away with her father? Sensing the tension in the air, no-one said anything. We all waited with baited breath. She plonked herself down in her chair and spat out with such vengeance, I could feel the daggers in her voice, “I told her to pack my shoes and she packed the wrong ones! I hate these ones. And she didn’t even pick up my laundry!” As if this little princess hadn’t been offensive enough, she then followed up with “she’s so retarded!”
Why did this upset me so much? For so many reasons. Firstly, Princess used to sneak out at night and drive around on a motorbike, meeting friends on the beach and drinking and many other acts that were far beyond her years… but she claimed incapable of packing her own bag or picking up her own laundry. Secondly, the hatred in her voice that highlighted how superior she felt that she was to her staff. Thirdly, because she was using the word ‘retard’ in a derogatory way – even when our school welcomes students with disabilities. And lastly, because I was ashamed. I was ashamed that I was her teacher.
I decided to give a writing task to my class: ‘A day in the life of my pembantu’. I thought they would find this interesting and a nice task, instead, I was bombarded with protests: “but my pembantu doesn’t do anything”, “She’s just lazy!”, “She has such an easy job and she gets paid so much!”, “I don’t care what my pembantu does!”.
I was even more horrified that some of the kids didn’t even know the names of their pembantu. The kids told me that cleaning was an easy job. They thought that cleaning the bathroom involved spraying a bit of water and then spraying a little scent around. Not hard. As for my sensitivity to the word ‘retard’, they said I was just being totally uncool, because they just meant ‘stupid’, they didn’t mean it as an insult to people with disabilities. Just like the word ‘gay’ they went on to tell me. It just means ‘stupid’. Again, I pointed out that they were using these words completely inappropriately.
I set them a homework task of swapping roles with their pembantu. I wanted it to be for a weekend, but knew it would be hard to even get them to swap for a few minutes. So, instead, I set them a minimum of an hour. I told the parents why they were being set this task. Most were very supportive, but some didn’t really have a huge issue with their children’s attitudes – not surprising really.
After the weekend, the class came back and I saw some real changes in some of the kids. They had been humbled. One boy, who before the weekend had declared, “my mum will be really angry. She pays good money to have someone do the housework. It’s not my job!” After the weekend he said “my mum made me swap roles with Komang for the whole weekend. I had to give her my allowance and she went with my mum and bought toys and clothes for her disabled child. I worked so hard and it was so tiring!” I looked at him and knew he meant it. I could also see that, for the first time, he realised that his pembantu had a name and a life – and it wasn’t an easy one.
I challenged the kids to spend a couple of nights living in a traditional village. They were up for the challenge – well everyone except one girl, because she’d seen how locals live and admitted she didn’t think she could do it. At least she was honest and had actually seen the reality. We compromised on staying in an orphanage. This turned out to be such a rewarding experience.
Our first visit to the orphanage was amazing. We were greeted by a hundred smiling faces. My students were determined to experience the life the orphanage kids have. Two of my boys headed out to play soccer on the gravel court. They saw the local kids didn’t have shoes, so they also played without shoes. Needless to say, the teachers then spent the rest of the night picking gravel out of their feet and patching up cuts. But I was proud of them. After our very simple dinner, without complaint, my students got up and washed all 120 dishes and cleaned up. Later that night, I had the biggest, toughest of my students curled up in a ball in my room, crying and begging to go home. Some of my kids were suffering culture shock… in the country many of them were born in. Over half of them were using Asian squat toilets for the first time in their lives. However, they all gathered themselves together and held their heads up high. We ended up having lots of fun, made new friends and learned lots of new skills and lots about ourselves.
Widya Asih 3 - meal time.
We have now been to that orphanage three years in a row and we have even invited a group of them (the same age group as my class) to come and stay with us for a few days for the past two years. It has been a wonderful and rewarding relationship.
Since we started this program, we have become involved in many other community organisations. Some have been part of our school program, others, the students have volunteered for. I was most proud of my class when I asked if anyone would be interested in giving up two weekends to come and paint the walls of a very poor orphanage for children with disabilities. There were 15 children in the class and 12 of them volunteered. Two couldn’t because of other commitments, but really did want to come, and one student didn’t want to. I was pretty amazed – my kids had stopped being selfish. On the first visit we made there (which was about 3 hours drive away), we discovered that the orphanage was really dirty. We spent about 3 hours cleaning before we could even start painting. It was seriously hard work and my students never complained. It became a 12 hour day. I didn’t think the kids would want to come again… but they surprised me… they volunteered again and even recruited a couple more helpers.
Our community involvement isn’t just restricted to orphanages. We are now annually involved in coral planting, helping street dogs, building environmentally friendly mud (mixed with rubbish) housing, rubbish clean-ups, other environmental programs and working with children with disabilities. We have incorporated community work into our curriculum and each student has chosen a campaign or organisation to ‘make-a-difference’ to. They have chosen everything from raising money for local organisations, to raising awareness of the United Nations Charter of Human Rights.
I have come full circle with these students. From perfect, to shocking, they have redeemed themselves and more. I couldn’t be more proud of them. The best part for me is that I really feel that I’m helping to facilitate the growth of responsible global citizens for our future. They are compassionate, caring, thoughtful and selfless.
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