The weirdos
I have always liked activities that require calm, concentration and silence, reading, writing, swimming, photography, yoga. This is the same as saying that I enjoy solitude or, what could be the same, that it is difficult for me to give myself body and soul to relationships marked by camaraderie.
However, I was once very young, dreamy and idealistic, and at that time I experienced the deep meaning of camaraderie. I was 18 years old and lived, like all young people, in a world of high-contrast colors. I began to study sociology. Up to that time world literature, mother's nightly stories and the powerful images of the music played on the radio had forged my sensibility. But the fascination with endless metaphors yielded to the power of the sociological argument and its capacity for synthesis.
The whole world can be summed up, as I understand sociology, in a few powerful ideas: human evolution, the beauty of difference, personal quests, universal values, among a few other ideas. One day a professor raised a discussion on the need to make theories compatible with practices.
That concept fascinated me. It made me compare my ideas with my practice. I took the concern to my group of friends at the time, a group of about sixteen people, all die-hard dreamers. We didn't want from the university just a degree, we were looking for meaning in our lives. So we argued about everything. We were the weirdos of the university. Talking about theory and practice gave birth to the idea of the little school.
My university was an oasis. Situated on a hill facing the sea (with beautiful gardens, water fountains, open-air artistic volumes, sustained cultural activity, daily cinema, concerts, theater groups, lecturers...) it became an attraction for the city dwellers, who came to that oasis to quench their thirst as much as possible. It also attracted a group of unschooled children who wandered through the clear and clean spaces, enjoying the classical music that played discreetly in some corridors, while offering a boot polishing service.
For some students and professors these children meant danger. For us, my group of friends, the weirdos, those kids were a joy. We read them short stories, we watched for them to eat something, we listened to them, we began to love them and think about them. And they us. Little by little a group of children without school gathered around us.
The children began to call us by affectionate names, using the diminutives of our proper names or some of our most outstanding characteristics. Our group was heterogeneous, we studied different careers in different buildings, we used to meet at noon to watch movies or in the evenings in the gardens overlooking the sea to enjoy the beautiful sunsets of my city. At those hours the children would look for us. Their ages ranged from seven to ten years old. When they located us, their childish voices filled the space in a fantastic way.
Carlitos!
Skinny!
Kike!
Chelita!
Eli!
A camaraderie was forged between the group of children and ours! Each of them had their favorite student, and each of us had our favorite child. Human things. But there was a certain imbalance between us. We felt that these children lacked something that we possessed. We knew what it was. We decided to make a little school within the spaces of the university.
We began collecting early reading books, notebooks, pencils and crayons. We asked permission to occupy an unoccupied coffee shop, and we took unused desks that we borrowed from the university's carpentry shop. I have a great fascination for the processes that take place when people learn to read. I experienced very exciting moments with my friends teaching these children to read. We were filled with great joy.
At some point we realized that the number of children was gradually increasing. So we decided to sell sandwiches to raise more money for the school. It was a time of great activity that we had to combine with academics. We were all in love with our careers and we wanted to make theory and practice coincide, and I in particular, with all vehemence.
The children learned to read, Eduardo, a mathematics student, taught them the basic operations. The children baptized my eternal friend, Carlos, a student of education, with the premature title of teacher, because he taught them the sounds of the syllables. Each of us found a way to teach something. I taught them to make puppets with recycled materials, Eli played the flute, we made them sing and above all we laughed in total confidence. With those kids we were, the weirdos, so happy!
One afternoon we received an unexpected visit in our school cafeteria. Two women and a man asked for Carlos, Iñaki and me. We had no idea what they wanted.
"First I want to give you a hug, Chelita." Said one of the two women and without waiting for an answer she proceeded to give me one of the best hugs of my life.
When she released me she explained that she was Daniel's mom.
"I am Daniel's mom, the quebradito." I was filled with surprise.
Daniel had been born with a deformity in his back that was never corrected. In his street they began to call him "el quebradito", because of the small hump that prevented him from walking straight. All the children called him that, without malice and with no intention of teasing him.
When Daniel first came to us, he showed a lot of aggressive behavior, he was constantly calling attention to himself. One day he grabbed my bag and ran away. My friends looked at me as if asking what to do. I waved them off. Seeing that no one chased him Daniel came back and sat down on the floor to go through my bag. Daniel pulled out all the items inside one by one.
"I'm not giving you anything back!" He shouted.
"I'm giving you my bag, Daniel. I'm giving it to you with everything in it." I said in response.
He didn't like that answer. He walked over to me and handed me my purse.
"I don't want anything for free." He said with an annoyed look on his face, but he made a space between me and another child and sat down next to me.
From then on I was his favorite student and he my favorite child. I gave him special attention. When we started the little school he was one of the fastest learners. His character changed and he became an invaluable ally for us. He was a sort of spokesman for the other children. He was the oldest of all, he was ten years old.
"I thank you for what you have done for my son and the other children in these months and we want to ask you for a favor." Daniel's mom said.
Carlos, Iñaki and I were perplexed. Other classmates had approached us. The children kept a respectful distance. We all listened without interrupting.
"The people of our neighborhood have thought that it is necessary for you to accompany us to build a school there.
"We have a piece of terrain, we have collected some money to buy blocks, shingles and cement. We have masons and carpenters. We will start building the school on Saturday. What do you tell us, teachers?"
What could we tell them? They called us teachers!
Carlos took the floor and without even seeing us, or consulting us, he answered for everyone.
We will be there. With pleasure!
The following Saturday we went to the neighborhood, which was actually very close to the university. Our group of weirdos laid the first blocks of the first wall of the neighborhood school. All of us, men and women, laid at least one block. The work was completed by people from the neighborhood.
Some time later I saw a photo in which Eduardo put the word "Escuela" School", written with a brush and white paint, on the front lintel of the door. That photo stayed in my memory. It would beautifully illustrate this writing.
We continued for a while attending to the children in our "school-cafeteria". One day we received the news that the regional government had assigned career teachers to attend the first three grades in the school built by the community. Our children had entered the educational system.
We, my group of friends from that beautiful time, followed our careers until the capricious life dispersed our paths. That was a long time ago. I was 20 years old.
Thanks for read!
@gracielaacevedo
I think they were not weirdos at all. They were just amazing, imagine in a university you talked about interesting things about science and others.
Very detailed story.
Greetings, @mrnightmare.net! Thanks for reaching out! I say we were weird because we weren't satisfied with just going to classes and taking exams. We wanted to be different.
Wow, good work! I am glad those children had you to teach them and love them. If it's hard living an uneducated and lonely life in these modern times, I can't imagine how it was before now. There's a thing in the mind that makes all the diference in the world, the sense of openness that makes posible to be happy. I remember hearing one can't ever reach it if no one in our lives accepted us for who we are. "Resilence" is what is called.
Hi, @selftheist !... and I am glad to have had them. They taught us how much you accomplish when you give with love and joy. At least beautiful memories for a lifetime.
The descriptions of the relationships forged between the students and children are touching. You can feel the genuine care and joy they have for the children's education.
Thanks for stopping by and reading, @azss! That was a great accomplishment that surely gave a new perrspective to the lives of those children.
A beautiful story. I was moved to read about the school and how everything went along to build it and the very adorable children. Something so beautiful could be created from an apparently simple action.
Thanks for sharing.
Good day.
Hola @rinconpoetico7! realmente las acciones del amor son muy sencillas, aceptar, mirar, cuidar. Con esas sencillas acciones se desaarollan grandes procesos.
Wonderful story of coming together and uplifting the community. Many people say academia is not the real world, as if there's such a thing, but colleges and universities are the places where many ideas (good and bad) are born and developed. In this case, the idea led to the development of the school and increasing literacy for those who did not have the means. Very nice!
Greetings, @litguru, glad to find you here! You are right. A small need met in a few children led their parents to see the importance of having a school, and a small school led the government to include the children of that neighborhood in the school system. Thank you for reading and commenting.
I’m sorry that my VP is low because I wish I could vote a million dollars for this exquisite story. You’re such a dynamic and skilled storyteller—expert pacing, perfectly captivating. You moved me to tears (floods of tears, actually).
I would’ve loved to know the twenty-year-old Gracie; you must’ve been a turbulent storm! I think that the most rewarding things in life are the ways in which we help other people, especially if there’re defenceless and rejected. What you did in those wild, “weirdo”, days of your youth will stand the testament of the hereafter.
Thank you so much for your generous wish, @itsostylish! I wrote very close to my heart where the images of the children I have cared for throughout my life remain. The twenty year old Graciela is still with me, she is within your reach, my dear. I take good care of her so that I don't forget the really important things.
What a beautiful story!
It warms my heart when people come together to improve the environment. You only needed a few small ideas to finally achieve something big. It's amazing how things in life happen without even imagining it. Excellent narration, friend Graciela.
Thank you for reading, my friend @universemissing! all great ideas start out very small. It's a great spectacle to witness the growth of ideas.
The most time to get rewarded for everything we do is when we help other and that is what matters.
Thank you for your comment @princess-dara! it also matters the happiness we achieve when we give selflessly!
This was a beautiful read, Gracie 💗 It fills me with emotion thinking about where those children might have been had you and your friends not intervened so graciously and generously in their lives with your love and attention, giving so freely and selflessly of your time. Too many children get lost, falling between the cracks of society, growing up ill-prepared to cope adequately enough with life or to progress sufficiently to attain their true potential. !LUV !ALIVE !PIMP
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The tip has been paid for by the We Are Alive Tribe through the earnings on @alive.chat, feel free to swing by our daily chat any time you want, plus you can win Hive Power (2x 50 HP) and Alive Power (2x 500 AP) delegations (4 weeks), and Ecency Points (4x 50 EP), in our chat every day.
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