Service Learning Essay

M. Sahyid Rainey

Humanities

Student Service Learning Paper





         “Youth is a perpetual intoxication; it is a fever of the mind.”  -François Duc de la Rochefoucauld. Well said, but apparently at Lindsay Elementary, the fever has spread into their brain and warped a few things. If I’d said that I really DID NOT enjoy the company of children I would’ve only been telling a half truth. I detested, deplored, hated, despised, and abhorred children. Did I make that statement clear enough? Children are usually grimy, rude, brash and unconcerned for others feelings in hopes to satiate their own desires. Sounds like most adults, right? I start to believe that maybe these children are merely the mirror that reflects back the fallacies of our society. Maybe the reasons for my disclosed feelings were those of self-hate. Through working with these children and experiencing their triumphs, failures, and tears I have come out a new person; and I even think I am a little better for the wear.

         In order for me to truly explain my “adventure” I would need to start with my first day at the school. Imagine, if you will, a small school in the heart of North Warner Robins “urban” district. Upon our arrival, my colleague, Kelsey, and I were greeted with the fanfare of this certain district’s custom. A large van pulled up alongside of passers-by and began to shout profanities outside of the vehicle stating that he would have to “slap a negro down if he didn’t get his money.” To which our pedestrian so graciously responded “ You ain’t getting yo’ money you stank ….. (We’ll call this a blank, for the word is not one that should be used in such a paper.)” Needless to say, Kelsey and I weren’t so elated by our ominous greeting upon arrival. However, we traveled to the front desk a little shaken, but totally put together, logged into the school database, and waited upon further instruction. We had the delight to be introduced to the school principal, Mr. Lunceford, who’s peppy and down right saccharine sweet disposition was received with a wave of respect and admiration from our fellow students. However, his sickly sweet attitude only made my head throb and stomach quake with disgust. I don’t mean to sound too pessimistic, but in order for you to understand what I indeed experienced you need to comprehend the fear and anxiety I underwent at the hand of that school.

So once our party was prepared, we were taken on a grand tour of the decrepit facilities supplied to them. Many of the furnishings were old and broken. Inspirational quotes stained the walls with no importance, because most of the children had barely learned to write their own name, much less on their list of goals was to read that “Learning is the basis of a civilized society.” Drawings and artwork of students adorned peeling walls and bands of them followed their leader through the low hallways (which my head was almost touching) and opened little bright eyes so big that I feared their eyes would pop from their heads. Mr. Lunceford began dropping each of my fellow classmates off to their respected teachers and finally Kelsey and I were taken to the first grade hallway where I began to sweat.

As stated I really don’t like kids, but even worse were LITTLE KIDS. I felt as a cow lead to slaughter. Mr. Lunceford stopped at the door and spoke a few words to the teacher inside and led us into the lion’s den. At first glance I thought the children seemed to have been frightened of us because they were all gathered beneath the tables. We learned that they were just participating in a routine drill. It was “code red” in the school and the children shuffled and jabbed at each other beneath the tables. Our new task master, Ms. Spradley, received us with a warm smile with a poorly hidden twinge of reluctance in her eyes. I immediately decided I didn’t like her. Meanwhile the children still crouched under the tables and stared out beneath them with eager, glittering eyes and devilish, twinkling smiles. I had to catch my breath for the nausea that overcame me. I suppressed my distaste and smiled what appeared to be a smile of glee. Children are very perceptive and were begrudgingly greeting me. I continued with my finely manicured façade of benevolence while underneath my skin writhed and turmoil devoured the inner sanctum of my mind.

The children were set up to be introduced to Kelsey and me. We stood awkwardly at the front of the class and surprisingly Kelsey seemed to really enjoy the presence of the little monsters. Ms. Spradley seemed to be a little strange and a tad unorganized, but I had begun to forgive her for her earlier reluctance to accept us after she explained her dire need for help with the children’s reading skills. She supplied us with lists of children that needed to work on their sight words and grammatical articles. One by one we called the children to the back of the room to test out their strengths and weaknesses. The first student I encountered was a rambunctious six year old named Jy’Quaveous. He was a definite shock to my senses. It was like someone stuck him in a candy store and told him he could eat anything and everything he saw. He was just too eager to enjoy my company and I was too eager to be rid of his obnoxious presence. I worked with him the most, for he was a little slow to learn and reluctant to sit and actually try to talk about his sight words. I don’t think he was connecting the distinct vowel and consonant sounds as words, but just as sounds. But all of a sudden he tired of games and I softened at seeing him sit down and try to do as I instructed him. Sadly, my emotional shield was not that easy to break and I went home with the attitude that the next weeks of Service Learning would be those of torture and anguish.

The very next Wednesday, Ms. Spradley furnished Kelsey and me with a power point of the students’ August sight words. It was September and I felt sorry that the children had gotten behind in their studies, but I still didn’t enjoy them. This time their learning process sped and the students exhibited a new fervor for education. When one student finished through the list of words, a chorus of “Pick Me! Pick Me! Pick Me!” insued. Ms. Spradley was none to pleased with the ostentatious display of misbehavior and began to make the children pay her “dollars” for their misdeeds. “Dollars” were the currency used to pay for treasures at the end of the week from the revered treasure box. If the children didn’t have enough money to pay for their treasures, then they weren’t able to participate in certain fun activities. When this happened I realized that I was actually remorseful for being so displeased with the children. Why would these children go to such extremes just to spend a few minutes reading boring lists with me?

As I began to develop certain personal bonds with the children I began to learn more of myself. I didn’t like it at all. I didn’t like that I was such an influence on the children just because of the express reason that I was a much older and taller person. This was a sharp reminder to me of the people that influenced me and have helped shape me into the person I have become for good and for bad. I decided I would be the good. My revelation endowed me with the strength to continue on with the Service Learning and I soon began to enjoy myself in such young company.  Joviality was little to express the absolute feeling of complete fullness that I had only enjoyed in the bask of the light on a grand stage. I learned names I now love such as Esli Bracamontes-Robles, Jesus Torres-Cruz, and Christopher Allen to name a few. Patience, humility, and respect for those who are less fortunate came to me in high doses. I looked around with pity and love on children who I would see wearing the same shoes every week I saw them, or would tell me that they lived in a house with so many people that they had to share three children to a bed. I opened restored eyes to the vision of love and care these children bestowed upon me and turned my head to the degradation I was once so willing to pile upon another human being.

Service Learning meant more to me than it did to the students and teacher that I assisted for the little while I was there. I received gifts that would make a rich man pant and lessons that would make the hardest heart melt. Compassion is an important part of any relationship one decides to partake of. The whole of any man or child shouldn’t be judged just by first glance, but one should try to peel away the layers of useless skin to uncover the heart beneath. I have decided those children no matter how dirty or what evils one might think of them, that they only act as buffers to ignorance. I look to children to tell me how I am doing in my battle of life. Never again will I accept a task without fully opening up my heart and realizing the opportunity I have been given to make a difference where most don’t care. I want to thank you for the experience and hope you all continue to provide future students with such immensely rewarding work.