The Universal Language of Babies

Today was a big day at the ECD office. This morning Isabel and I and two of the new volunteers went to the Forres School in Rosebank, where we met with a class of seventh graders. The Forres School is a small, private (by our definition) primary and middle school located not too far from our office. Forres and SAEP were teamed up by a fluke of nature. One day at the beginning of the year, a teacher, Anita, came across a brochure talking about Early Childhood Development, while cleaning out an office at the school. The brochure mentioned SAEP’s involvement in the township crèches. She contacted Isabel, who put together a list of needs for one of the new crèches, Kiddies EduCare. Since then each class has collected a different item that the crèche needs and then donated it to the center. Forres School is also raising funds for a new building for Kiddies and in the meantime a group of dads are making repairs to the existing structure. It’s a wonderful partnership.

Upon meeting the Forres School students, we drove out to Phillipi and met Margaret at Kiddies. I love Margaret. She is so lively and funny and happy. When we first went into the crèche, the Forres School students went to one side and stood there awkwardly looking at the little children. The children at Kiddies range from probably six months to four years. Eventually, the Forres School students began interacting with the Kiddies children. They drew with them, rolled the ball, read… a variety of activities. I was really quite impressed at how well these seventh graders played with the babies. There was one boy who must have younger siblings. He read and held a baby and generally kept a captive audience.

Not long after our entrance (a bunch of tall, white, non-Xhosa speaking new people), this one little baby girl began crying. One of the crèche teachers picked her up for a little while, but then had to put her down to take care of another child. The little girl began crying again. So I squatted down next to her, talking very softly. I’m pretty sure that she didn’t know what to think of me… and I don’t blame her. Eventually, I picked her up and started bouncing her very softly and the teacher gave her a small bottle of milk. She stopped crying, but she wasn’t very relaxed. She finally locked her eyes on me and stared hard. It was pretty amazing to watch a little tiny child, no more than a year old, considering me and whether or not I should be trusted. But hence the title of the post, babies don’t have language. Communication occurs through sight and touch, tone and volume. Tender touches, smiles, coos… they send the message of love without a single word. After checking me out, she decided that I was ok and promptly tucked her head under my chin and fell asleep. For the next forty-five minutes, she snored softly in my arms.

We were only at Kiddies about an hour, but it was quality time and I think everyone enjoyed it immensely. Unfortunately, I was not able to participate in the conversation that the teacher had with her student after our visit, but I wish that I could have been a fly on the wall. What was the message that this teacher wanted her students to get? What discussion were they having about the bigger issues of poverty, segregation, and rights? As we were leaving, I heard students asking if they could take “one” home. I don’t think that they meant it disrespectfully, but it was. These children are not puppies at a shelter. Did the teacher discuss with them respecting human dignity and its importance at any age? I don’t know, but I do know that it is important to start having these conversations at an early age, and I hope that she did.

Again, I was reminded today of how beautiful children are. I don’t miss the bureaucracy and bull of teaching, but I do miss my kids. I miss feeling like I have an influence and the trust that only someone who truly depends on you can have. I miss the world where a smile or hug really can make the whole difference in a day. And I miss every day being new. It would take a lot for me to overcome the negativity that I left my school with, but if I thought that I really could enter a new school in a new district with a clean mental slate, I might look harder at teaching again. But until I am confident that my slate is clean, I will always be seeking out opportunities to interact with children (even if it’s only being the best ever aunt and pseudo-aunt!)

Always,

Sarah