mon stage à l'école de la rue

I started an internship at an informal school in Dakar a few weeks ago. The school is located in a slum in  downtown Dakar and it seeks to educate those who are neglected by the public education system. École de la Rue has been run and funded singlehandedly by Amouyacar M'Baye for the past 39 years. It has been visited by 2 presidents, both of which have promised funding, neither of which have followed through.

Amouyacar directly translates to hopeless in Wolof. You can only understand the irony there if you listen to his story.

L'histoire de M'Baye

When M'Baye was a child he was sent to Dakar as a talibe, a boy who studies the Quran at a Daara. This education is guided by a school master, called the marabout. The talibe's relationship with his marabout is characterized by devotion and obedience. The marabout provides guidance and the talibe demonstrates allegiance through economic tithes. In the past, rural Daaras were funded and sustained by the marabout's crop yield. Talibes were expected to work on the fields in addition to studying with the marabout. However, there has been a stark increase in urban Daaras in Dakar, and with it, a new culture of economic exploitation. Not all, but many marabouts send their boys out daily to beg. Due to its culture of almsgiving, Dakar has been a popular place for these exploitative Daaras. If the talibes don't return with enough money by the end of the day, they are often beaten and forced to sleep on the street. This was the case for M'Baye. He spent 7 years of his education begging on the street. The first english word he ever read, he noted, was shell--as in a shell gas station.

After 7 years, he escaped. He ran 50 kilometers to a different town where he managed to continue his studies at a public school. He learned french and English. He remembers looking up the word shell in an English dictionary for the first time and seeing a seashell. He says his education started and will always go back to the street.

As an adult, he returned to Dakar and started teaching people on the street. He bought a rug and placed it on the sidewalk. He taught anyone who chose to sit down and learn. After a few years of this method, he opened École de la Rue--School of the Street--where he teaches children and teens during the day and maids at night. On the weekends, he works on his farm near the pink lake. This is how he's funded the school for the last 39 years.

L'éducation au Sénégal

Similar to the United States, Sénégal has an education system that combines public and private options. However, there are many barriers to receiving even a public education. For example, to register for public school, one must have a birth certificate. However, home births are extremely common and often preferred in Sénégal. Moreover, not everyone knows this rule. If a child doesn't register for school before the age of 7, they are no longer eligible. It is also a matter of logistics. If a child cannot get to school on his or her own and their parents are unable to walk them, they simply will not go. Finally, public schools are not necessarily free of charge. For example, one girl I was working with, Sokna, said the only reason she wasn't attending public school was because she couldn't afford the right clothes.

It is important to mention the legacy of colonialism that exists in the Senegalese education system. Schools utilize French, not Wolof. This is in part due to the fact that Wolof is a traditionally oral language. Simply stated, this makes school harder. It's speaking one language your whole life, a language you don't have to write, and then having to not only learn how to speak, read, and write a new one, but also be tested in it. I'm so lucky that the language I already knew how to speak was the language I used when I started learning how to read. There have been efforts to systemize the language into a written format, but these efforts are largely informal and hardly far reaching. For example, there are a few children's books written in Wolof, and my sister's sometimes text me in Wolof. However, even in these instances, Wolof is adapted to the latin alphabet. This is linguistically bizarre, considering the fact that it is more closely related to Arabic. 

Right now, it's difficult to imagine systematizing Wolof for two reasons: it is not the only native language spoken in Senegal, and it is an incredibly expensive pursuit. It is true that there are many linguistic worlds within Senegal. When you look at it this way, there is no obvious candidate for the national language other than French. The French language becomes a unifying force, however, only when you accept the borders that were created by France in the first place. Systematizing a native language would also be a major financial investment. It includes funding for a whole new industry of literature--children's books, magazines, news papers, novels, textbooks, road signs, academic research. You could start from scratch: decide it's okay to adapt to the latin alphabet, start making early children's education books. And even still, these children would hit a major roadblock in higher ed, when most research conducted by even Senegalese academics is written in French. Moreover, it is a cultural imposition in the first place to demand that a traditionally oral culture subscribe to a written world order. 

All these things considered, I realize that I cannot correct history or make any major change during my short stay in Senegal. I can only hope to make real connections with real people, positively impacting one another's lives in the process. I've realized this means I may have to get more comfortable teaching French. I may have to get off my ethical high horse and realize these children want to learn French because if they learn French their lives will improve. I can't fix the problematic reasoning behind that fact.

Mon rôle

Last Thursday I realized I may have more responsibility at this school than I'd originally thought. M'Baye works tirelessly. He has worked tirelessly for 39 years. And for this reason,  he seems to have lost some of his effectiveness. I realized he needs to take many breaks throughout the day. His lessons are a bit repetitive and the kids don't seem to be very focused. On Thursday, during our 3rd break over a short period of time, I asked why we weren't working on anything. He sighed and in a moment of reflection shrugged, "I'm tired." I then asked if he wanted me to work on math with the kids and he was extremely grateful. M'Baye has been doing this for decades. I have a lot to learn from him. However, during the few weeks of my internship, it seems like he'd appreciate it if I took some of the pressure off. 

Teaching math is hard. Especially when I'm in a room with 6 different languages. Simple things, like explaining the difference between an addition and subtraction symbol, become daunting challenges. I'm trying to navigate these challenges. I'm viewing it as an excellent opportunity. I started going around to each desk, writing an addition problem next to a subtraction problem, using the same numbers. I wrote tally marks and pointed to the subtraction symbol as I erased a few and the addition symbol as I added. This worked for a few kids, not all. 

I called my nanna today (the best teacher I ever had) and she gave me some tips. The method I was attempting would be more effective if I used objects. Something inexpensive, like raisons. She also told me about teaching languages. In an environment like this, it's best to use images and sound. I'm going to start drawing on the board instead of trying to figure out the direct translations. I'm also going to learn some french nursery rhymes on my ukulele and sing with the kids! I want to make school fun.

This is an incredible opportunity for me to learn about learning. I've always loved teaching and learning and working with kids. Working at École de la Rue should give me some insight as to whether or not I should start seriously considering teaching!