(This is Sarah. Just so you know.)
I'm in camp mode right now. Which means working 14 hours a day on a good day, doing all sorts of random manual labor, pretty much having no friends except my car as we go to and from work each day, and talking to kids.
Talking to kids. Without a doubt, my favorite part of the job. Depending on how old they are, the experience is so completely different.
The little ones are so honest, so free to say what they think, no matter how it sounds. If one bothers another, they hit each other. Done.
The older ones, though... The older ones.
Today I spent a half hour with a group of 11-year-old girls. Girls who hurt each other everyday. By not including everyone, by talking behind each other's backs... it's a rough world out there. While I was with them, I had them write down how they had felt, if any of them had been bullied in the past week. And here's what I got:
I felt like I didn't exist.
I felt terrible.
I felt like I had a disease and like no one wanted to be my friend.
I felt invisible.
It didn't take too long for my mind to wander to Siteki.
Taking time to sit with these girls and talk to them gave them a voice. They were free, so able to talk about how they'd failed and how they'd felt. They had an adult who made them feel safe, who listened to them.
One thing that is lacking in this world is people taking time to listen to kids. In some cases, like in Siteki, I'd guess, there isn't really time for that. The adults that are with the children there are trying to make ends meet, trying to take care of the basic needs--food, shelter, clothing. That makes sense to me.
But all of us yearn to be heard, to be understood, to be free. Some of us are blessed to be placed in environments growing up where we have those needs met. So many are not. So, yes, I'm excited to go to Swaziland, to make this film, to run the camp, to inspire action...
But more than any of that, I just want to listen. To prevent one more child in the world from feeling invisible.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment