February 22, 2018
Dear HFB Family,
We are writing to you on our last night in Cape Town, and
students are so sad to be leaving, but so ready to see you again too. We spent
the day traveling to the southern most tip of the continent and swimming with
penguins, and right now, students are with mamas, loving them up.
Everyone is doing well, though a fever has made its way
around a few students: on a scale of 1-10, students have consistently rated
their moods nines and tens, with a few eights at the lowest points.
This afternoon, our teacher friends at Isilimela ferried
students to their mamas in Langa because our colleague, Siyabonga, out of an
abundance of caution, was worried about us driving into the township in our
vans. A taxi turf war flared up in Langa this morning, and two people were shot
and killed. Our colleagues were not worried about driving in the neighborhoods
in their cars, and they certainly weren't worried about our children at home
with the mamas, or the farewell braai at mama Thandi's. We know you must be
concerned to hear such news. Please trust that we are taking care of your
children. Ms. Plesha is in close communication with the mamas and Isilimela
teachers as well as with our children.
Soon we come back to you, with songs, stories and hugs.
We love these kids.
David
February 23, 2018
We have just left our friends where they were singing to
us outside the check in counters of the Cape Town airport. Mimi carried an
empty bottle around the student circle, collecting tears. And when we left
them, Isilimela and Bellville students continued to sing long after they were
out of our sight. Despite the joyous songs, it was a somber affair, though loud
enough to once again attract many travelers who celebrated with us from the
sidelines.
This morning, Roosevelt students went to Kirstenbosch
Gardens for our final reflection in South Africa. They were prompted to discuss
our walking tour of Langa, re-integration with the HFB students who traveled to
Northern Ireland, and then to go bigger: what will you take back with you from
this experience.
I am so impressed with the thoughtfulness and
sophistication of these kids, their sincerity and kind, forward hearts. I am
proud to stand with them, and I am especially glad to look to them for their
decent intentionality as it positions itself towards a world that can be both
loved and improved.
They were largely uncomfortable with the tour of Langa.
As Fiona explained it, there were moments people of Langa were turned into
exhibits; she felt the violation of it. But here too is an example of the
complexity and richness of our students’ thinking: Fiona felt especially
uncomfortable when we were allowed to take pictures of the woman selling
smileys, sheep heads, as our guide explained why she wore yellow face paint and
how she rubbed clay into the heads to make them beautiful; but then when Fiona
saw the tour guide give the woman a little money, Fiona wasn’t sure what to
make of the transaction: was it simply exploitative, or was there something
positively transactional in it? Many people were struck by the company hostels
that have been turned into stark living spaces for multiple families crammed
into small spaces with few beds and communal kitchens with flint stoves but
without water. Lydia said what struck her about the hostels was how everyone
there was waiting for more official housing. And then she referred to something
one of the Isilimela students had said—that people kept voting for Nelson
Mandela because he was the face of the movement, but he wasn’t perfect: he
promised houses, as many politicians after him had promised housing: but those
people are still waiting, and they’re lucky if their grandchildren get the
houses for which they’ve so long been in line. Quinn’s reaction was a
humanizing one: She said she was told and was expecting things in Langa to be
so different, much as it had been presented in the tour; but when she walked
into her mama’s house, she found it was the same size and layout as her
grandmother’s. We didn’t go to an alien planet, she mused; these people are
people. Elaine suggested that one thing she hopes the HFB class studies and
discusses after they return is sustainable tourism. She felt the tour was
degrading, and there were difficult elements of it to consider; for example,
she pointed out how the craft vendors in Langa sold the exact same crafts as
everywhere else; she wondered, when she buys their wares, is she helping the
person or contributing to a kind of demeaning cycle of tourism. Rudy noted that
they had been taking so many cute pictures of the kids in their neighborhood of
Langa, but it was important to be mindful to share experiences on social media
appropriately. Posting pictures whose subtext is “these are the poor kids of
Langa” might not sit well with these kids in ten years. I liked the care and
sensitivity of this conversation so much.
They brought similar care and generosity to their
thoughts about reintegrating with the other half of the class. Louis said he
didn’t know anything about Northern Ireland, and so he was excited to learn
from the experiences of the other students. Olin made Polly’s heart light up
when he connected this to the farewell story she told at the Company Gardens
with the three schools the other night, about Gray Squirrel who went on a
journey to learn from many mentors how to make a basket that wouldn’t leak
water: Olin said, Polly talks about sharing stories and opening our ears to
people who do so, having a piece to put in our baskets; Olin said he was
excited to return to class now that they have such rich pieces to give to each
other to carry with them. Elaine warned of returning and comparing experiences
or competing for whose was the best; if we’re not sharing with each other, she
said, we won’t learn anything.
Finally, students are so excited not just about what they
have done and seen, but about carrying on their knowledge, in a depth and a
generosity that has so impressed us teachers and reinvigotated our jobs as
educators. Students are excited to carry what they have learned, to open up to
a wider school community in South Seattle, to open their hearts to new
friendships, to embrace the welcoming spirit they’ve learned here, to challenge
racial and social divides in our own school and city: They recognized their own
power to do so, as leaders in our building and our city. As Lila said, this
experience was not just for me to go somewhere and learn something, but to
share it, to take it and do something with it.
God, these kids.
When we broke the circle, we had an hour to wander the Kirstenbosch
Gardens. I don’t know what the feeling was—happiness, sadness, love—but I was
lingeringly tearful, moved--warm in the belly and face. It was the calming
embrace of the rocky crags reaching from the sculpted green expanse of the
gardens to a fogged-in sky. It was the greens, the flowers, the slope of a
place cut for delicacy and quiet sensory joy. It was the warm honeys of the
flowers that everywhere seemed to nurture a sense of goodness and hope. But it
was also these gorgeous travelers with their adult minds and child hearts.
They have learned that their hearts are just as large as
they allow them to be.
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