Since my return from Afghanistan, I
am a substitute teacher for grades K-12 with most of my time spent in grades
4-6. It is a constant struggle for me to figure out how to keep my students
engaged, under control and interested in what I am presenting and when I ask them
to do something and the child replies “why?” the response like a parent of “because
I say so” doesn’t carry much water in the classroom as a sub. How different
from what I experienced in Afghanistan.
What I saw, experienced and learned
in my 4 years in Afghanistan as a civilian contractor from building schools,
living and working with the local people experiencing the daily trials and
fears unimaginable to most Americans and then seeing the impact these schools
made on the Afghan children’s lives where the children are craving to learn and
do whatever it takes to get to school even if it consists of walking miles in
hand-me-down sandals or threats from the Taliban.
When I feel my class losing interest
and control, I like to settle them down by telling them stories of my time in
Afghanistan. One of my favorite stories
is “the magic Pencil”. I ask the
students “what do you think was the most asked for item from me by the children
at the school construction sites?” Their
answers are “money, food, water, clothes.” Yes, All good answers! at which time
I pull a pencil out of my pocket and hold it up in the air and state “it was a
pencil!”
Why would it be a pencil? In Afghanistan,
many children cannot read or write and they have seen the pencil and pen touch
paper or wood or anything and do magical things wherever their hand leads it. As I would go out to projects in villages,
whether it was building a school, Medical clinic or some other structure, I was
amazed that within a few minutes of arrival to the site I would be swarmed by
Afghan children of all ages. I’d always wonder, where did all these kids come
from and how did they know I was here. Even sites that were way out in the
desert or mountains within minutes of my arrival there would be all these children.
Where did they come from? No matter the weather…Scorching sun or Freezing cold,
as soon as I arrived at the job site, got out of the vehicle, or walked from the
helicopter, I’d be immediately surrounded by a mass of children asking for
water, money, typical things, but the NUMBER ONE item I was asked for was a
writing pen or pencil.
At first I couldn’t believe this. Remember
that it is believed that 80% of the Afghan people, including adults, cannot
even read or write their own language. The children did not speak English but
they sure knew the word “PEN”. It seemed odd to me at first that they cherish
this one item the most. Why would they want a PEN of all things? Was it to sell
the pen or pencils in the bazaar? No. I learned
from an Afghan interpreter that to many of these children who could not read or
write, the Pen was Magic. It was a Magical instrument, like a Harry Potter Magic
Wand that could do Magical things like write or draw.
So, when I traveled in Afghanistan, I
began to carry lots of pens and pencils for the children. But there was a downside when the children
changed from a friendly group to a shark feeding frenzy, surrounding me pushing
and shoving, grabbing and pulling on my back pack and clothes. Like sharks
trying to tear me apart just to get a PEN. Even in small crowds I had to make
sure I had no pens, pencils or anything hanging on my body that someone could
grab. I had to make sure all my zippers on my back pack were closed and not
easily opened. I was once mobbed by a group of Afghan children when one boy
actually reached into my pocket and stole my Pens and money and ran away. I ran
after him for a bit, with security trailing me, until the boy lost me. I
learned the children had become expert Pick Pockets. Because I was considered a
High Value Target, the soldiers or guards protecting me would immediately have
to intervene and begin pushing and shoving the kids away from me before I got
hurt or lost important items. They were always concerned for my safety as I
could get stabbed or shot or blown up by a suicide bomber. What children in the
United States, such as here that I am teaching, would have thought that a
simple Pen or Pencil would magical and be of such importance to be the symbol
to Afghanistan children of knowledge and education. Pens and pencils so important to uneducated
children, that just like bullies, the older children would grab the smaller
children’s pencils I had just handed them.
So unless the crowd was only a few children the new policy was that I
was not to hand anything out anymore. It broke my heart.
My hope is that my book opens eyes to the reality in Afghanistan. “ONE BRICK at a TIME” by Rich Walton, available at https://www.onebrickatatimepress.com
