I got to The Street Academy today at about 9am. Again, the Street Academy is a school specifically for “street children” who are either homeless or live in impoverished conditions. The school is right in the slums (for lack of a better word). I brought crackers and water for a snack because I knew I’d be there a few hours. I met with the head of the school Mr. Lartey who was very happy that I had come and says that he rarely gets time to spend with Rev. Soaries when he’s here because he’s always busy and he was very happy that he sent one of his people. Instead of teaching a class as I thought I’d do, Mr. Lartey explained to me that he’s starting a new project for teenagers that have not been to school, or have not been in a long time. He will have them come in the afternoons and structure 50% of the program around learning and the other half will be a football program…or soccer as us Americans call it.Most of the kids love football and this will attract them to the program. The program was to begin today with one young man named Philip, who I was instructed to work with. Philip is 16 years old and he has not been to school since he was 6…10 years! He said that he stopped going when his father died and it was him, his mother and his 5 brothers. I asked him if he’d been working all this time and it turns out that his oldest brother is the only one that works and drives a cab. So Philip has essentially done nothing for 10 years. It’s not like he has the means to travel or even get anywhere substantial. It was hard to hear. I started Philip out on Primary English…just to see where he was at. He knew his alphabet and has excellent handwriting. He can identify basic things like dogs, tree, bed. But he has a hard time spelling. So for about 2 hours I worked with him on being able to identify and spell the things that he was identifying and then I’d quiz him. And for the most part he’d get everything right. He was a quick learner. I’d slap him hi-five every time he’d get something right…and wrong really. I kept trying to encourage him. I asked him what he loved to do or even wanted to do. Every answer was football. That’s all he wants to play and do. And I’m glad the program will help him with his passions, but it’s like, his world is so small, he can’t even see beyond that. How do we get these kids and ours to see beyond their limitations? How can we expect them to even formulate passions and desires when what’s right in front of them are basically prison bars? Tomorrow Philip will come back with 3 other boys and I’ll be with them in the afternoon. Then I hear that the dance and arts group will come and teach me a dance. I don’t dance, but I’ll humor them. Lol
Anyway, the owner of the school and I took a walk around the school to take a look at where most of the students come from. Everyone who lives back there live back there illegally he says. No one owns the land, and the government can just come and remove them when they want but they ignore it. As we walked back there…to see them in those conditions…and those aren’t even the worst from what they tell me! People were also cooking so it smelled of fire and coal and cows and urine and fish…it wasn’t very pleasant. Pollution was just about everywhere and people were basically re-using water in big pans for their cooking, cleaning and even bathing. I had a tough time for a second back there to think of those kids.
When we got back we talked about planning for when I bring some of my kids back next year and he told me some of the projects they are currently working on in getting a new building and books and fundraising etc. I gave him some money towards some of his goals and then went around to take some pictures. By that time Angie was there to pick me up. Angie, Reginald and I went to get some lunch and I ate beans and plantains. No Rice! Lol. But we had a good time talking about television shows and I found out that they watch “24” too! We went through every single season over lunch. Oh how I miss Jack Bauer. We went back to the office of the Okyenhene so Angela could finish up some work and then came back to the guest house to drop me off. Angie and I talked a bit. I really love talking to her. We swapped stories about working for our bosses and I showed her pictures of my family. She looked at my dad and screamed, “He is a Ghanaian!” lol. Yeah, well at least I know where my Dad’s side of the family is from…it’s pretty clear. She looked at my mom and was like, “Now she is an American.” lol. I can just hear my mom now...“I’m from Africa!” lol Oh well…tomorrow’s a new day.
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