Seriously, I am beginning to realize what it must be like to speak and think in one language and be expected to think and speak in another. After finishing what I proudly believed was a simple lesson about data collection and surveys, I ask if everyone understood at which time they stared blankly back at me. Interesting! One forgets the nature of the 7 year old after stepping away for 19 years. I must have had a great deal of patience at one time.
While my little lovelies were writing a story about sliding (that's the term used here to describe sledding) I popped next door to ask Aidan a question and found her students doing their "chores". Yes that's right, chores! Some were sweeping, some doing the dishes from breakfast. There was a pleasant hum in the room. It was like visiting a classroom in Stepford. How was this possible? My confidence sunk. Surely I had the ability to achieve the same harmony. What is the secret? I can assume experience accounts for some of the productivity and a vice like grip on the kids. Aidan rules!
Last Friday after lunch, we took two grade one and two grade two classes to the magnificent swimming pool. I was to meet one of the other teachers there to help manage the changing into swim suits etc. while two teachers waited at the school to bring any stragglers who missed the bus. Well my partner teacher's vehicle got stuck in a snow drift and needed to be pulled out unbeknownst to me. I had a rather large group of kids to corral and keep in order all by myself while we waited. Thank the Lord for a very capable life guard who had the kids sitting on their hands against a wall listening to the rules of the pool in utter silence. Not one child so much as wiggled. Swimming is a huge treat for the kids and they knew not to upset the life guard. I was, again, impressed by how important experience can be with children.
Eventually all the teachers and straggler children arrived and we proceeded to the change rooms where hair had to be tied up or somehow inserted under rubber swimming caps (a nightmare I'd as soon forget) and the girls lollygagged and chattered and took forever but we eventually got to the pool for further instruction on rules of conduct. I had considered swimming with the kids but thankfully decided I'd be able to manage them better if clothed and on deck. The "watch me", "watch me" requests started almost immediately. It took me back to the days with my own children when they were so excited to have an audience for every little accomplishment in the pool. We always indulged them and I have no regrets. You're only a kid once right?
(I'm the official swimming cap, goggles and other non-essential items holder as well as supreme cheer leader! I knew I would find a vocation here! )
After our hour was up and the other grade got to swim, we got our gang dried and dressed and in the gym for games. I kicked a soccer ball around with some of the girls who are a little shy and we had a hoot. They enjoyed playing with me and all wanted to sit next to me for another game. How easily one can earn the trust and admiration of children! So cute. I loved the fun they had and stoically excepted defeat and sat down when they were called out. Very good sportmanship.
On a slightly more sombre note: last week a 17 year old girl died here. It seemed to be more through misadventure than intentional and involved alcohol and drugs. Attempts to save her here in Wemindji and Val D'or were unsuccessful. In an urban centre she would have survived but in a remote community there isn't enough equipment for these kinds of extreme emergencies. I was encouraged to speak to my class and ask them if they had any questions. They were aware of the girl's death and some were related to her. It was a poignant conversation as we touched on the effects of alcohol and the importance of reaching out. They were most concerned that she was in heaven. They are little old souls these children. They spoke of other losses and how they felt. The conversation was a bit rushed as they had another class. I was not prepared to have that conversation but I was nevertheless, comfortable to be there with them at that time. Tomorrow the school is closed for the funeral. The community has dealt with this tragedy in its own way. There are grieving circles and many of the high school teachers who knew this young woman and her peers are spending evenings talking to students in groups in their own homes, sometimes all through the night. The funeral will be at the Anglican Church (Wemindji is a Christian community). I shall attend out of respect.
I had the privilege of spending an evening on Friday with a senior teacher/counsellor named Eleanor who enthralled me with her stories of her fascinating life for hours. She is a published author, a columnist, a dedicated teacher who spent years helping the severely handicapped in Montreal and then teaching in another native community before coming out of retirement to come up to Wemindji as a "readjustment" counsellor. She explains that she works with the primary school children to mediate between their teachers and parents and be a kind ear who helps them problem solve and work through difficult issues they may be having either in school or at home. She will retire this year to do respite work in Montreal with the Cree school board. This will involve bringing children to stay with her for 3 weeks to help them refocus, continue their school work etc. and then return them to their families. A unique position. The goal is to keep families together. I can honestly say that I know I was meant to meet this woman and learn from her. I already consider her a friend.
On Sunday Aidan and I had a dinner with Monica, Carmen (two of her teacher friends) and two senior teachers Eleanor and Ingrid. We talked about the Cree culture and the challenges that come up on a daily basis - it was the most interesting conversation. Ingrid has been here for around 20 years and regaled us with her memories of how Wemindji was back then when there was no road access and one had to fly in. We laughed at the huge leap of faith new teachers took coming up here but how well cared for they were by the school administration. Apparently everyone that comes up here has an independent spirit and vocation for teaching. The village takes care of you.
I am going to join the native women's beading/craft group. Calls are being made on my behalf to introduce me I guess and I aim to blend in somehow. They may adopt out of pity when they see how lousy my beaded jewelry looks. I hope to be able to ask about their lives here and am sure I'll get an education in one way or another. I've already made a friend with a native special education instructor named Mary. She's shared lots of personal insights and the story of her life - what a thrill to hear.
Well all for now folks! Over and out!
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