Day 25: Stop, Drop, and Roll

My time here is quickly coming to an end. Far quicker than I would have ever imagined. Far quicker than I care to think about. I have spent the past 3 weeks building up a strong program at the orphanage that will be sustainable with or without me. This week it is time to pass on the torch and test out just how sturdy this structure actually is. Caitlyn and I have been training 3 new male volunteers to take over the "Team Leader" position at the orphanage. I was excited to have men take a bigger role in working with the children, as of lately it has been only females. The young boys who come each week need a few strong, male role models in their lives. It will be quite the difference, however, changing from two bubbly female teachers to two quieter male teachers. Change is good. Or so I’m told. I feel it is only natural to hesitantly give over the reigns of something you created-it's hard to let go. They’re my kids. I hate to leave them. Especially after all the sweat and energy and heart I put into the orphanage. But change is good...

It was a bit of a rough afternoon at the orphanage. The children showed up late, we had more volunteers than we knew what to do with, and about half of the neighborhood decided to join in on the lessons. Above all of that, we were teaching a heavy topic that relied solely on translation, which always makes for a trying activity. We thought it was very important to teach the children what to do in an emergency and the steps to take if another natural disaster occurs. I wonder how many lives could’ve been spared if people had been more prepared; had been more aware of how to keep themselves safe in an earthquake.

It was a touchy subject to teach. We went back and forth in our planning session whether or not the kids were ready to learn about it, and if it would be too traumatic. All valid concerns. But in the bottom of my heart, I just couldn’t bare the thought of not teaching these kids how to keep themselves safe in the event of another quake because we weren’t certain they could handle talking about it. In my years working with kids I have learned to always give them the benefit of the doubt; they never cease to surprise me in how much more they can handle than I give them credit for.

One of the project managers is also in the middle of coming up with a similar program that HODR will teach children, or teach teachers who will then teach their children – or something along those lines. He asked me when I was leaving, hoping it wasn’t soon so he could get my help. I sadly responded “Saturday,” to which he replied: “don’t go.” Later when I was asked to help reorganize and come up with a new structure for the baby orphanage, he walked by again and remarked, “Why are you leaving again?” I had no answer. Why was I leaving? With so much to do, why was I leaving?

Despite the obvious difficulties, overall the lesson went well. Haitian children were rolling all over the ground practicing how to stop, drop, and roll (rete-tombe-woule in Creole) – a sight at which I couldn’t help but laugh. Feet and arms flying in every direction. Oh the joys of teaching.

I left the orphanage thoroughly exhausted on every possible level. It was worth it to know that maybe just one child would retain at least one safety step that would someday save his/her life. I keep my fingers crossed for that. I pray their new knowledge will spread like wildfire, as knowledge often does.

Day 15: The More You Know

HODR recently started a teacher-training program during which local teachers learn Disaster Risk Reduction and about Trauma & Creative Therapy. The great thing about today’s training was it took place at the very first school that HODR built from ground up. What a beautiful experience to train teachers in a school that your hands built (well, not my hands, but someone's hands at HODR.)

The first two hours were dedicated to teaching about what causes natural disasters, what they are, and safety procedures for within the classroom. The second part of the day focused on learning about trauma and gaining tools for doing creative art therapy with students. When asked if any of the teachers had ever attended such a training or knew anything about either topic, the response was a unanimous “no.”

You take for granted that your school enforced a dozen fire drills each year or over exaggerated the importance of knowing where to go during an earthquake (even in non-earthquake parts of the world like Michigan.) Hundreds of miles away in a country peppered with natural disasters from earthquakes to hurricanes to fires, it’s hard to believe there are not safety procedures in place. They learned simple evacuation plans, the best place to take cover if evacuation isn’t possible, how to stop-drop-and-roll, and more. It was brilliant. Teachers have access to so many more lives than we could ever reach alone at HODR. Educate them and you educate so many more.

It’s interesting in Haitian culture how people respond to trauma. You can’t see the effects of trauma like you can a broken arm. So many people were hurt physically in the earthquake; that is evident when you look at them. So many more were hurt emotionally and mentally and that is not evident to the eye. Since they cannot see it, Haitians do not put any emphasis on trauma and it goes completely untreated. Like any wound that goes untreated, it festers, tares, and gets infected, and as time goes by it gets worse and worse leaving nasty scars that never heal. Do not for one second believe that it is any different for the emotional effects of trauma.

The teachers wanted direct answers about trauma; the exact signs to know a child is suffering from trauma. They wanted hard fast rules and black and white signals. But every child is different. And I had to explain with as much emphasis and passion and conviction as I possibly could that even if a child does not show outward signs of trauma it does not mean that they are not suffering from trauma. They survived a terrible earthquake that destroyed many lives of people they knew and crumbled their entire physical world. Whether they express it or not, these children are suffering from trauma – how could any of them not be?

We practiced a couple techniques for each type of creative therapy (art, dance, music, garden, and silent.) I made them all stand to partake in a dance. It was the first time I saw each and every one of them smile. I pointed it out, proving the point that dancing is good for the soul. It’s exercise and exercise releases endorphins, which make you happy. And when you’re happy you’re not thinking about all the things that make you unhappy. “For two minutes you can give your students a chance to get their minds off their problems. You can give them an opportunity to escape, even just momentarily, and for a little bit they get to be just kids. And every child deserves to get to be a kid now and then.”

Overall the teachers had some great questions, were thoroughly interested, and I pray they took some of what they learned with them. Imagine all the lives they can impact and potentially one day save just by being prepared.