I am finding it hard to write this blog, because it means reliving the past few weeks in my head. Honestly, I’d much rather forget them. I prefer to write about the positive experiences we are having here. For example, in April when the schools were on break, Ellie, Mei, and I hosted three special events for the girls at our Children’s Home. As we made Easter cupcakes, we discussed the difference between Physical Hunger and Spiritual Hunger, and learned that Jesus is the True Bread of Life. As we painted toenails, we talked about God’s goodness and how we can have “beautiful feet” by bringing news of God’s goodness to others. And as we made jewelry from our handmade paper beads, we talked about beauty that fades versus beauty that is everlasting. These are the days that keep me going here. But in reality, those days are few and far between.
The last few weeks have been a reminder of the fact that we can’t do any of these things without God’s strength. We are learning more about the fruit of the Spirit and how it is only through God that we can love the people who lie and try to manipulate us; find joy when our kids are persecuted; rest in peace when our work life is churning in chaos; have patience when the day before we are supposed to move, we still don’t know where we are moving to; make good decisions when we feel so clueless about how to proceed; be kind to people who continually ask more of us without showing gratitude for what has already been accomplished; show gentleness when we really just want to scream; have faith when we wonder why God brought us here in the first place; and show self-control when it is so tempting to complain and give up.
We have been struggling through multiple difficult situations involving our work at the Children’s Home, Bahati Primary School, and the Home-Based Care program. But by far, the most stressful situation has been that of adequately schooling our own children. In mid-March, Amy realized she could not continue to homeschool without ending up in a psychiatric hospital; partly because of all the other work piling up on her plate, and partly because Ethan’s 8th grade curriculum was requiring too much preparation and brain energy on the part of the teacher. So, after much consideration, and discussion with another missionary family in the same position (the Biemecks), we and the Biemecks decided to enroll our kids together in a private Catholic school here in Kitale. It is one of the best schools locally, and even ranks well by national standards. We knew it would be much different than American schools, so we made sure to ask many questions of the Head Mistress before enrolling. One of our main concerns was the manner in which they discipline children, and the Head Mistress gave all the “right” answers, so we went forward.
After the first day of school, Ethan reported, “My teacher beat two of the kids in my class with a stick.” Then Ellie said, “Well, three kids got beat in my class!” Immediately, we were back in the Head Mistress’s office asking for clarification on the definition of “corporal punishment”, because we had previously been assured that it was not school policy. The Head Mistress explained that “caning” (as beating a student with a stick is properly called) is indeed a form of corporal punishment, but was only practiced “when a student’s parent requested physical discipline for their child.” Again, we were reassured that it was not the school’s policy, and that our children would never be touched. We were not feeling totally satisfied, but felt we needed to give it a longer trial.
Over the next two weeks, we revisited the Head Mistress several times as reports came in from our children. One day, in Ellie’s class, a little girl had not done her art drawing as well as the teacher would have liked, so he made her lie down on her stomach and beat her across the back until she cried. Another day, Mei reported that 6 children in her class had been beaten for calling her “China” and pretending to speak Chinese at her. Then we found out that Howie Biemeck, our missionary friend who was in Ellie’s class, was threatened by a teacher for standing up to stretch without asking permission. The teacher raised the stick at him and told him that he would let it pass this time, but next time he would be caned.
In my mind, a threat is meant to be followed through on, so I no longer felt sure that my own children would not be touched. This time when we visited the Head Mistress, she began to back peddle and change her definition of corporal punishment, “Corporal punishment means actually injuring a child as a way of disciplining them.” It was made clear to the Head Mistress by both our family, and the Biemecks, that if any of our children were threatened or touched again, we would be withdrawing them and requiring a refund.
We lasted two more days. That Friday, Ellie and Howie came home and reported that they had gone to computer class and the teacher wasn’t there yet (not uncommon). So, as any good and well behaved student would, they each sat down in a seat to wait for class to begin. The teacher eventually entered from the back of the class and before saying a word to our children, hit them both across the back of the shoulders with a stick and told them they did not have his permission to sit down.
This is the way Kenyan children are raised. They are not nurtured and guided. They are beaten into submission, and even if they are not being disobedient or disrespectful, they are sometimes beaten just to remind them that should not even consider being disobedient or disrespectful.
We are thus back to home schooling. Amy’s one saving grace is that we just found out that Ethan has been accepted to begin 9th grade in September at Rift Valley Academy, a prestigious private school started by American missionaries, and adhering to American standards. Our relief over getting the acceptance email was accompanied with tears, for RVA is 6 hours away, and is a boarding school. We never thought we would consider this for our children. When we agreed to go where God was leading, we did not know all that we were agreeing to. I guess it’s that way with all significant decisions: marriage, having babies....if we knew all that those decisions would entail, we might not ever make them. But we do, and we persevere through the difficult times, and in the end we see that the best things in life are costly.
