Lessons from the African Plains by Thomas

Lessons from the African Plains by Thomas - November 2016 Scholarship Essay

We never called it learning, although I suppose it was. Learning to a kid is much like eating your peas or cleaning your room. A necessary thing, but a task to be rebelled against by sheer nature of childhood. Instead, we went “exploring”. My parents took us hiking in the Canadian Rockies, rafting in West Virginia, up a Mayan temple in Mexico and even rock climbing in Arizona. We lived in one city but our playground, and I suppose my classroom, became the broader world. At each destination, we learned to observe the environment and the people around us, gather the knowledge that we could and come away with a better appreciation for our big beautiful world. That desire to travel, to explore, was nurtured within me and persisted into college. Although the urge was there, my chosen field of study, bioengineering, limited me by schedule with year-round classes. Early one semester, my roommate came back to our room excited about a service class he was taking. In this class, they traveled abroad to teach local students. Being one of the furthest things from an education major, I was hesitant to act on my innate desire to join.

It took two semesters of his excitement and my nagging interest to convince myself that it was worth the effort and that I would be able to squeeze it in amongst finals and electives. So I joined the trip to Botswana. I knew nothing about the country, but I did know that I wanted to explore. Our student group was comprised of a variety of majors: engineering, geology, sports administration and public health. Throughout the semester we planned out a week’s worth of activities and lessons to do with middle school children, soon to be our students. A passion for teaching grew as we prepared materials and lesson plans covering topics such as solar energy, geography, and bullying.

We arrived in Botswana after a painfully long flight filled with many delays. Exhausted yet excited, we began to plan out our first day of teaching. Supplies were divided among groups, lesson plans were paper clipped and buses were boarded as we prepared to go to our respective schools. When we arrived at the school, a thirty-minute drive from the capital city Gaborone, we were greeted first by a run-down group of buildings. Each classroom building seemed to be missing at least one door and a couple of windows. We were greeted by forty apprehensive children as we entered their class for the first time.

The day began with awkward icebreaking activities. Slowly, after several physical and humorous activities, they warmed up to us and a chance for the real lessons to begin. They asked about life in America and taught us how to speak a few words in Setswana, their native language. For every lesson we taught them, they taught us something in return about their lives and country. After our formal lessons, they asked us first to play soccer with them and then sing Justin Bieber songs with them, two things they absolutely love. We danced, laughed and learned more than we ever planned on.

My Americentric view of the world was shattered when I entered that school. Many of the children had never seen a white person up close before. They wanted just to touch our skin. They marveled at the long, curly, red hair of one of the girls in our group. It was strange to feel so different. In America, we often focus on the small differences in our skin as we take for granted all the material and social benefits we have. In Botswana however, we were the definite minority, not just of color, but also of privilege and experience. African people are wonderfully kind and welcoming people who smiled continuously and took care of us despite where we came from. Being surrounded by our differences enhanced my appreciation for our similarities in kindness, shared values, and even Justin Bieber songs.

As the week progressed, I found myself ceasing to teach and trying instead to help them learn to explore knowledge and the world about them, much as I had been taught. As a guide in the exploration of life, I encouraged them to look, and I was encouraged myself to look. Seeing a sunrise on the African plain and seeing the look of understanding in a Botswanan child’s face as I explained a lesson were both soul reaching events. By being somewhere else I gained a deeper appreciation of here. By meeting others I gained a deeper appreciation for us. I was humbled and encouraged. Our differences can make us closer, and it takes experiencing those differences to appreciate it. Once I leave college and move on into the “real world”, I will be most thankful for my experiences in Botswana. They allowed me to reach a bit more of the world and of myself.